The Ships Speak
by queenpearl
Summary: From the world of "Leviathans" comes the individual stories of some of the series' favorites.
1. Amundsen Speaks: Divided Loyalties

I hated the winter months. Not because of my arthritis. Not because I had to push through the ice pack for open waters. To the contrary I loved playing with ice. I reveled in the feeling of breaking the stuff under my bow, feeling it crush under my weight, forcing it into submission. What I really, truly hated about it was why I had to push through the ice. Each year I led a fleet of small craft out into the Labrador Current, no more than 100 miles off the Quebec Coast, and had to stand by and watch these ships kill seals by the thousands. As if watching was bad enough, I had to chase away anyone who tried to stop this. The ice and sea would quickly become red with blood and I could do nothing! It infuriated me. It was illegal, I knew that. It was against the Seal Protection Act, a hypocritical law that prevented anyone from approaching within more than a 1/4 mile of a seal. Unless you were going to kill it that is!

There's one year that stands out for me. It wasn't long after I'd been put back into service with the Canadian Coast Guard. Oh, I'd heard the rumors of course so I knew she was coming. Why wouldn't she come? Illegal operations were her forte. I lost count of how many times I prayed to the Ancients though that she wouldn't. Just watching the hunt was bad enough. I didn't want to have to enforce it and worse, risk hurting her. No such luck though.

My radar picked her up long before I saw her. Visibility was down to a few hundred meters. She emerged from the icy fog like a ghost, her black hull contrasting greatly with the white of the ice around us. She had a thick hull like mine. She was no icebreaker, but being built as a North Sea Trawler had it's benefits to be sure. Jaws parted, fangs exposed, and green eyes narrowed in concentration, she forced her way through the compacted ice, heading straight towards the center of the hunt. I put my engines on standby, baring my teeth in a snarl of warning. I prayed for a miracle, that she would get the message and back off. _"Back off."_ I thought. _"Back off please!"_ No chance. I knew of course she would just ignore me. She, like the rest of those ships before and after her, was foolishly brave, perhaps a touch suicidal even. Did she know what she was getting herself into? _"Of course she knew."_ I told myself firmly. _"She's a veteran of many seasons here and elsewhere. She knows how to deal with my kind."_ I hated classifying myself that way but that's what I was. Every winter I wasn't a research ship, I was a warship. A warship who defends murderers. How corrupt is that?!

I turned my bow in her direction, my eyes going over her profile so I could remember it for future seasons. I wasn't aware that she had no intentions of leaving, let alone coming back next season. She had the lines of a north sea trawler, but with the personality of a war harden veteran. Her hull bore the many battle scars of the fights she'd been in over her long career. She was all black, save for her white muzzle which indicated her age. That and the yellow letters than ran along her superstructure, and the spikes she laid out to prevent my crew from boarding. I'd done my research so I knew she could do worse than that to repel my mounties if need be. If they did try, I hoped she would use that. I welcomed any fight she could give. I deserved it for merely being here, let alone attacking her if she tried anything.

I hoped she'd stop and observe like I was, getting much needed film of the hunt to share with the world. But I totally underestimated who I was dealing with here. She was a warrior, she fought environmental bad guys for a living. Sitting still wasn't her style.

She anchored to the flow and let a team off to get in close. I half wished she would just plow straight through the ice and knock those killers into the sea. She'd do anything shore of harming people though. I could see it in her eyes however, how much she wanted to take them in her jaws and tear them apart. I couldn't imagine the restraint she had to apply. And she'd been doing this for the last 2 decades?! Remarkable! I was reminded of a saying then, _"Courage is measured not in the ability to fight, but in the ability to not fight."_ I marveled at her courage, her strength. If I was in her position I would've just said "enough" and had those killers for breakfast! For her not to attack, despite the fact that she clearly wanted to,and show the restraint she was showing, that took some tremendous whale balls!

I watched as her deployed team approached the hunters and that's when things went south. First the hunters typical two word vocabulary showed itself again, as it did every year. When it came to people and ships like her, they only had two words to say. "Fuck you!" was shouted over and over again. Then a fight broke out. If you could call it that anyway. It was an absolute smack down. Her crew showed the same restraint and allowed themselves to be beaten. I wondered if the ship herself would do the same if I attacked her. The very thought made me feel sick. If I was forced to attack a helpless ship...

My own crew had control of my engine plant and I'd learned long ago not to fight them. The resulting punishments weren't worth it but this time I thought it just might be. For now though, all I could do was wait as I plowed towards her, hoping and praying that the ice crunching beneath my bow wouldn't become her hull if we collided.

With teeth bared and eyes narrowed I approached swiftly, watching as her team ran back towards her. A group of my mounties disembarked and captured a few of them and I resisted the urge to snatch them up and feed them to the seals myself. It was quite clear to me and to everyone else who was at fault here. The hunters had started the fight and the hunters were the only ones who used force. I snarled at the injustice of it all. The sound was misinterpreted by the other ship. Now she gave me her attention. She returned my snarl with one of her own. The very sound of it chilled my blood. Though somewhere in the back of my mind I knew she wouldn't fight me, the sound made me think she would. I could see it in her eyes, the fire of battle. She would protect her crew from my efforts. If I tried to arrest them, she would stop me. Then reason returned and I continued on, ignoring her warning. The nudge came unexpectedly. As I closed in, she moved forward blocking my path and tried to shoulder me aside. The brief moment of contact allowed me to get a feel for her strength. She had very little of it. Either I had gained a few tons on the summer salmon run or she had lost some. Feeling her ribs just beneath her hull I assumed the latter. Her hull itself was well kept and maintained but underneath, she was a weakened floating wreck. The mere effort of shoving me aside had her gasping for air, nostrils flared, jaws parted, and tongue lolling. Her eyes rolled around her head in her exhaustion. Fearing I would hurt her, I backed off. Watching her collapse on the flow, suffering through a coughing fit as she struggled to regain her wind, I realized she wasn't just weak, she was ill. Very ill.

My medical training took over then and I brushed my bow along her side, trying to ease her coughs while at the same time, getting a better feel for what might be bothering her. What I found, both scared and astonished me. This ship was suffering from terminal lung cancer. It was well advanced too by the looks of it. Already I could feel the tumors growing out of her lungs and latching onto the rib-cage where they grew out of her hull. A few were giants and some had already cracked open, bled, then closed again.

"How long?" I asked her.

"A year if I don't push it." She rasped. "But that's not gonna happen."

"Why in the hell would you come down here?!" I chastised her, the healer in me coming out. "If you're that ill why confront me. You can barely push me aside."

She looked at me. That sincereness in her green eyes still haunts me to this day. "They need me." She replied.

I swallowed hard. Being in the service I always felt I'd give my life for my country, just as any other ship would. But looking at her now I realized I could never have that courage. Here was a ship who was giving her life, for a cause that seemed so small, so insignificant, that she had to work twice as hard to even draw attention to it. Unlike the service, it was a thankless, risky job that offered little reward. Very few ships could do it. But she could, and it was killing her.

Her voice brought me back to the present.

"What was that?" I asked gently.

"Finish it." She rasped.

"What?!"

"I came here knowing I wouldn't come back. Just finish Amundsen." She replied.

"I-I can't..." I whimpered.

"Of course you can. You have no trouble killing anything else." She retorted.

I winced at that one but it was well deserved. "It wasn't by choice." I sniffed. "I'm a research ship in the summer."

"And a killer in the winter." She finished.

I sighed, conceding defeat. Whatever I wanted to believe I couldn't argue with the truth. Regardless of my intentions or my feelings, the fact was that every winter I helped keep this awful practice going. I hated it, truly hated it with a passion but what could I possibly do? I couldn't stop it! I wished I could though. Oh how I wished I could! I gazed down at her, her frail form huddling on the ice.

Getting my jaws around her, I lifted her up. She gave a slight squeak of pain which I apologized for, before I rested her against my side. "I want you to run." I whispered.

"What?" She murmured.

"Run, damn you! You have to get out of here!"

"I-I told you. I have no plans of leaving. My crew knows this and supports it." She replied.

"So you condemn them to a life behind bars?" I asked.

"They're in the right and they have the evidence. The stir from this will create an uproar." She sounded a tad bit smug but I figured she'd earned the right.

"Well then, why not cause an even bigger stir." I suggested.

"How?" She asked.

"By running. You know you can't escape. So I'll catch up to you, we'll collide and I'll take you back to port as my prisoner." I replied.

"Amundsen, that's the craziest suggestion I've heard thus far and I've heard quite a few of them in my time." She chuckled, looking me in the eye for the first time. "Let's do it!"

She took off, her engines whirring. I gave her a minute start before giving chase. She wasn't a fast ship. She could only go about 9 knots at full power, 12 if she pushed it. And pushed it she did, pushing through the ice with sheer desperation. Her jaws were parted in a pant and I knew she had to be in a lot of pain but she kept on going. I had to admire her toughness.

Eventually though, she began to wear herself down and I caught up. She still kept going though and I came in from the side, knowing that colliding was the only thing that would stop her. I crossed her bow, deliberately slowing down to give her the time to collide. She reversed her engines, eyes closing as she braced for the impact she knew would come. With an awful screech of metal we hit.

Her yowl of pain still ringing in my ears I instantly grabbed her, tying a rope around her rudders to keep her from escaping.

"Did I hurt you?" She murmured.

I look myself over. I'd lost some paint in that incident but I felt no pain. "Not even a dent." I replied sympathetically. "You should've bit me when you came in, then I'd have a battle scar to show off."

Knowing I was trying to keep the mood up, she laughed and replied "You're worse than Westra."

"And who's Westra?" I asked, my curiosity getting the better of me.

"My apprentice, she'll be the lone flagship when I'm gone." She replied.

I nodded. "I'm sorry it had to be this way." I said.

"So am I." She agreed. "You would make a great addition to Sea Shepherd."

"I doubt vigilante work is my forte." I answered and she laughed.


	2. Arleigh Burke Speaks: A Dark World

It was during Desert Storm, my first overseas assignment, that I lost my sight. Missouri and I came across a pocket of Hydrogen Sulfide, the world's most poisonous gas. There was a small earthquake and all I could think about was protecting Missouri. I got her out of the way but I couldn't escape in time and took a gas geyser to the bow.

After that, everything was a blur. I don't remember much. Missouri told me that she had raced to Southampton to find help.

When I woke next everything was blurry and shadowed. I knew Victory had put a cloth over my eyes to help them heal and I did a quick assessment of how badly I was hurt. I was lucky. If Missouri hadn't rescued me, I would've most certainly died.

Victory told me that the sulfur had scarred my retna beyond repair. It codnt work properly anymore. I was going blind.

I couldn't believe it. I refused to believe it. I prayed to the Ancients that maybe Victory had made a mistake. That I would be just fine. But Victory was an experienced healer. She knew what she was saying and the truth crashed down upon me a few days later.

One morning, I woke to complete darkness. I knew I had no covering on my eyes. Frightened, I cried out to Missouri, hoping she could help me.

I didn't want it to be true but there was no question about it. I was blind. I lived in a world of darkness, a dark world.

I could hear just fine but being able to hear and not we what I was hearing, it was maddening. I wanted to see the leaves changing colors in the fall and not just hear them rustling on the ground. I wanted to see the glory of ports like San Francisco and New York at night. The golden lights brightening the heavens.

But I won't see that. I shall never see anything again. I can only hear the world around me and never be touched by it's aesthetic beauty.

Oh, Missouri. Why didn't you just leave me at that geyser? Why didn't you do what I wanted you to and run for safety?

Missouri, why didn't you let me die?!


	3. Belfast Speaks: Against the Odds

It was my first time out after my disastrous maiden voyage in 1939. I had struck the new magnetic mine and had been out of the war for 3 years. I still shudder to think of what occurred that day...

...

I was sailing on a patrol with several other cruisers and destroyers, some of my own class. Some not. It was dark and the harsh weather was making it increasingly difficult to see anything. I never noticed anything, never sensed anything when suddenly, a tremendous pain struck my keel beneath my A and B turrets. I cried out.

Up ahead, another cruiser Norfolk heard me and slowed. "Belfast, are you alright?" She asked. "No. I think I hit something." I groaned in reply. I slowed to a halt. The water splashing up along my sides changed color from dark blue to crimson. That's when I knew it was serious. Norfolk turned around, her engines straining against the waves and current as she raced back alongside me. "Dear god, it looks bad Belfast." She said. I whimpered in reply, leaning against her. "Easy now." She whispered. I groaned in reply, drifting in and out of consciousness. "No, no stay with me here, Belfast!" Norfolk growled. "Keep your eyes open, focus on me." I tried to obey but it was becoming increasingly difficult. Just when I thought I was done for and everything was going dark, another voice rang out. "HMS Belfast, you keep those eyes open!" I shuddered under its authority and quickly agreed. Norfolk had moved off and another ship had taken her place. This one was larger, and obviously carried more authority. A pair of ice blue eyes flashed in the darkness. "Belfast, can you hear me?" She growled. Slowly, I nodded. "Y-yes..." I rasped out. "Good, now keep your weight against me and I'll get you home." She ordered. "Norfolk?" I asked. "I've ordered to take the convoy back home along the same route. At least that way they'll be given safe passage." She replied. I nodded. "I'm designating this area a hazard zone until the minesweepers can come in and clear it up." She said. "Good idea." I rasped, my speech broken by a round of coughing. Something wet coated my lips, blood. "That's not good." The stranger said. She moved along with even greater urgency. I struggled to keep up and that's when I realized something. I was only moving because of my crew. I couldn't feel my engines at all. I couldn't feel anything aft of the injury. I stumbled in shock!

"What, what is it?" The other ship asked. "I-I can't feel anything. Nothing!" I wailed. She sucked in a breath. "Stay close. I'll get you in to Victory and we'll see what we can do, hmm?" I knew she was only trying to keep my spirits up and I appreciated her for that.

We sailed into Southampton together. "Victory!" The ship beside me called. "Where I always am." came the annoyed reply. All of Victory's anger vanished though at the sight of me. "Oh my, get her in the berth beside me, quickly now!" She growled. The blue-eyed ship nodded and gently nudged me in with her prow. "Now you stay put." She ordered. Seeming to sense this ship was of high ranking authority, I dipped my head. "Yes ma'am." I replied and paused. "Um, I never did get your name." I heard Victory give a quiet gasp from beside me and quickly I wondered if I'd just made a grave mistake. Fortunately, the other ship didn't look mad. She glared at Victory, causing the healer to fall silent before turning to me. She moved forward, pressing her bow against mine, her blue eyes boring into me. "Live, and I'll tell you." She growled and then she was gone, sailing off into the night. "Not a bad incentive." I grinned. "Oh no, she's off limits that one!" Victory growled as she set to work. "Oh why? Is she taken?" I asked. "Yes and no." Victory replied. "What the hell does that mean?" I demanded. "Hey, don't take your Irish temper out on me!" Victory growled. "It means kid, that yes she's taken but that's not the only reason why." "Okay, you want to break your own code and fraternize that's you're own business." I said. "She's not mine!" Victory growled. "Oh really?" I asked cheekily. "You seem to know a lot about her for someone who's "not interested" in other ships." Victory huffed. "Our relationship is, complicated. But if there was a ship I would love, and there is only one, it isn't her." "Suit yourself." I shrugged. "Now you watch your tongue before I decide to forgo your operation." Victory growled. "And leave me to bleed to death? Someone I don't think Miss. Blue Eyes will appreciate that." I replied. "Ahem!" said a voice from nearby. "Miss. Blue Eyes can still hear you." "Oops." I giggled. "Victory, quit stirring up trouble and Belfast, do shut up and let Victory do her job." She groaned. "Yes ma'am." I replied. I fell into darkness a few minutes later as Victory administered the anesthetic.

When I woke a few hours later, I found myself lying against the dock flat on my side. Lying in the same position, her bow facing me, was the mystery ship that'd helped me the night before. If it was the night before. There was no telling how long I'd been under on Victory's powerful anesthetics. Those things could put your out for days so I've heard. Victory herself was resting in the berth behind me. I figured she'd earned it, saving my life and all and wartime was always a busy time for a healer, especially if you were the only one. Turning back to the other ship, I observed her as she slept, getting a much more detailed look at her than I had during the night she'd rescued me. She was pretty. No I take that back, she was beautiful. Absolutely beautiful. Stretching 860 feet, she had a 104 foot beam that might have made other ships look fat but actually gave her a rather lean, muscular appearance. Her eyes were closed and she was sleeping soundly but I knew those closed lids hid a pair of ice blue eyes. Her exposed keel had a series of support struts along its length, particularly on the forward section. This made me wonder, did she have a weak back originally? While I was pondering this, she stirred and with a huge teeth baring yawn she opened her eyes. "Awake I see." She said. "Good." She righted herself with some effort, grimacing a bit as she did so. "I couldn't help but notice..." I began. "Added weight from the upgrades." She replied, knowing my unfinished question. "They put severe strain on my spine. Fortunately Victory was able to compensate for that somewhat." I nodded. "What about you? How's your injury doing?" She asked. I rolled on my side, showing her my keel though I couldn't see it myself. "Well?" I asked as she breathed in slowly. "The damage was severe but I'll never cease to be amazed at Victory's skill. With some physical therapy you should be just fine." She replied. "That's good to hear." I sighed. I looked at her. "I still didn't get your name." I said. She opened her mouth to reply when another ship, a battleship, sailed in. "Hood, there you are!" She said. "I was looking all over for you." The ship, Hood, grinned. "I like to wonder off. Hope it's no trouble to you Oak." She replied. Meanwhile I just stared. Hood?! Of all the ships, the whole time it was Hood? The Hood! I couldn't decide if I was the luckiest ship or the unluckiest. Hood turned back to me. "Oh dear." She chuckled. "First timers always get like this. You're not gonna faint on me are you?" She asked. "N-no ma'am." I stammered. She laughed. "Relax. I've come to know you, just call me Hood alright." She said. "Alright." I agreed. Hood nudged the battleship beside her. "This is Royal Oak. She knows everything about everything." The battleship shifted. "Ah, I don't know about that." She said. "Admit it." Hood sang. "Nope!" Oak replied with an embarrassed grin. "As you can see she's stubborn too. Too stubborn to admit she's the best." Hood said to me. I giggled despite myself. "And you're a shameless flatterer Hood." Oak replied, her whole bow turning bright red. This time, I actually laughed and Hood laughed too. "Stop it you two." Oak grumbled. Hood and I merely laughed again for which we were doused with water by an irritated Oak. "Okay, we deserved that." I said. "Yep." Hood agreed. Oak just huffed and sailed off.

In the following months, Hood and I got to know each other pretty well and I didn't have any trouble just calling her Hood all the time. We relied upon each other in many ways. While I couldn't support Hood militarily, I was a huge help to her emotionally and she reciprocated the fact. It was well known that Hood had a temper and when she let her blood boil, her instincts would take over and she wouldn't care who she fired on. Anything that moved was a target. After a close run in with her deputy Royal Oak, Hood decided enough was enough and went in for counseling. Victory wasn't easy on Hood merely because she was her Commander. She drilled Hood with little or no mercy, expecting the young battlecruiser to exceed her expectations every time. Such sessions were wearing on Hood's already frail check on her temper and there had been more than one explosion during the course of those classes. That was when I stepped in and offered Hood my support. More often than not in these cases, tears would be shed, mostly by Hood. Though she never asked, I kept silent about such events if only to preserve her honor as a fighting warrior.

I too however had troubles with my own sessions. The therapy proved harder than I expected and I soon grew to hate Victory and her drills. She considered this a good thing because it meant she was doing her job. She wasn't here to be liked, she was here to make people get better. After a particularly hard session, I would go run off to the navy yards. Hood was always willing to lend me a shoulder to cry on. After all, I help her through her own therapy. "We battlecruisers stick together." She said to me once. I clung tight to her hull, unwilling to let go.

2 years came and went and still Victory did not deem me fit for duty. Though I had little issue moving around now I was still clumsy with my weaponry. "If you can't shoot, you may as well strike your colors." Victory growled after I had failed, yet again to hit the target with my guns. I groaned. "Victory!" I began. "No backtalk!" Victory snarled. "And for that, an extra 15 minutes of drill. Again!" She ordered. Cursing Victory with every bad word in the book mentally, I kept at it. Firing my guns until the paint had blistered off the barrels and I still hadn't hit the target. "Belfast," Victory sighed. "I know you can do better than that but the fact is you're not trying! I can't help you if you don't try!" "I know, I know." I groaned. For once Victory seemed to soften and let me go without a serious reprimand. As I sailed off to my designated berth, I took a moment to breathe in the sweet scents of spring. Of all the things war has dulled, at least this hadn't been. Docking with practiced ease I was surprised to see Hood there as well. Her engines were idling and black smoke spewed from her two funnels. Her crew was casting off the mooring lines. "Where are you off to?" I asked her. "Denmark Straight." Hood grunted. "Prince of Wales and I have been ordered to cut off Bismarck's advance." "Bismarck!" I exclaimed. I knew little about the German battlecruiser, only that she could pound even the hardest battleship into dust if she wanted to. "You just be careful Hood alright." I begged. She grinned. "Like I'd let that kraut take me down." She chuckled and left.

3 days later, Prince of Wales returned along with a ragtag group of cruisers and destroyers. Her hull bore the scars of a recent fight. Scanning the ranks, I did not see Hood anywhere. Noticing me, Prince of Wales sighed and sailed over. "From the looks of things it must've been some fight." Victory remarked as she sailed past. "We got that bitch in the end though! And we made sure to take our time!" Prince of Wales growled. "Good." Victory hissed. "She deserves it." Looking back and forth between the two, seeing Victory's uncharacteristic anger and Prince of Wales' sorrow, the realization began to dawn on me. "Hood...?" I whispered. "Dead." Prince of Wales' voice choked on the word. "She was blown in half by Bismarck. I watched her sink. She was gone in 3 minutes." "3 minutes..." I whispered. "How many of the crew survived?" I asked. "3." Victory replied sadly. "Reports have it Hood fired her forward turrets one last time before going down. The men inside had no chance of getting out." "3 people..." I whispered. Hood had a 1400 man crew, easily. But only 3 to make it out alive... That day forever changed me. For from then on my fight was personal. From then on, I would fight to avenge Hood.

...

I became much more aggressive in my works with Victory. The healer was impressed at the turnaround, especially when I managed to strike all the targets without a single shell missing. "I don't know you're doing it Belfast, but keep it up and you'll be out at sea in no time." She said. I grunted. "This isn't just about me anymore Victory. I know that now." I replied and fired another broadside at the targets.

...

I had made such improvements in my training that Victory decided to release me a year earlier than planned. I returned to see on the 3rd of November 1942. I earned for the taste of battle and the chance to fire my guns but for the time being, I had to settle for the slow convoys. I was "pulling at the bit" for this. Norfolk, who'd since taken over command of the Royal Navy was also in the convoy with me. She laughed and said "i hear ya kid." "I'm 4 years old now Norfolk, I'm not a kid!" I grumbled. "You're a hot head with spunk. I like that." Norfolk said. "Your chance will come soon enough." She assured me. I just huffed and she laughed again.

Turns out Norfolk was right. My chance did come. It came in December of 1943 and it came swiftly in the form of the feared German cruiser Scharnhorst. At 294 feet long, mounting 9, 11 inch guns and weighing in at almost 39,000 tons she was a demon! If she got through the blockade and into the North Atlantic, she could single handedly destroy any convoy headed for Russia. I first got word of her approach to the North Cape shortly after Christmas when the German battleship left port. For a long time the Royal Navy had planned to sink Scharnhorst. But to do so required careful planning. We did not need a repeat of Hood. It just so happened that as a convoy left Scotland, bound for Russia, another was returning from the Allied nation, holds empty having already delivered their supplies. The two were destined to cross each other.

Scharnhorst took the bait and sailed north from her base in Norway. She was heading right into Norfolk's trap. "Textbook." Norfolk chuckled. "What an idiot!" I agreed. As Scharnhorst appeared on her radar, I alerted the convoy. Norfolk, being as every bit hot blooded and fierce tempered as Hood before her, wasn't willing to wait for anyone else and opened fire at long range. While most of her shells fell short, it certainly startled Scharnhorst. I laughed as the German's surprised swearing was heard by the convoy as she turned tail and ran. "She'll be back. A juicy piece of prey like this. She can't resist." Norfolk said. "I sure hope you're right." I sighed. Sure enough, Scharnhorst returned 2 hours later. "Ah, ah!" I scolded Norfolk as she raised her guns to fire. "You had the honers last time. Now it's my turn." Norfolk huffed but agreed. I fired a broadside with my 6 inch guns. This time, I could see the shells made a mark. Scharnhorst shouted a string of nasty words not fit for the press in my direction before retreating again. "Okay?" I shrugged. "You'll be back." "She won't need to be. We've got her." Norfolk said. "Oh?" I inquired. Grinning, Norfolk replied "Have you forgotten about our other division?" "That's just dirty!" I exclaimed. "I like it." She grinned and I laughed.

Scharnhorst had seen quite enough of Royal Navy convoys for one day and sailed back to her base in Norway with all haste. Little did she know that the battleship Duke of York had picked up her trail and was moving to intercept. Norfolk and I detached from the convoy and raced south to meet her. We raced in just in time to see Scharnhorst shake off Duke of York. "Oh no you don't!" I yowled and fired a salvo. "You again?!" Scharnhorst hissed, her English hard to hear under her thick German accent. She swung around again to the east in a desperate attempt to escape the three ships closing in on her. I tried to keep up but Scharnhorst was just too fast. I recalled then something that Victory had told me during one of her many lessons. _"Anticipation is the greatest weapon. Don't aim at where your enemy is. Aim at where they will be. Pick a juicy spot on their hull and fire."_ I did just this. Knowing I had only one chance, I increased my speed and aimed my guns carefully. I could try to aim for her engines or her boilers, either would would do the job. I increased my chances by aiming for both. Timing was crucial. Taking into account her speed, the wind direction, the wave action against her hull. What the wave action will be in a few moments. I doubted even I could make such a calculation correctly. Then I heard it, a voice whispering gently in my ear, the coordinates. Range, elevation. I quickly entered them into my plotter and fired. 2 seconds later there was this tremendous explosion and a cry of pure agony from Scharnhorst. I'd hit her boilers.

 _"Well done, Belfast."_ I knew that voice anywhere. "Hood." I whispered. The battlecruiser appeared beside me, her ice blue eyes warm and loving. _"You will become a great leader one day."_ She promised. "I'm nothing special." I muttered shyly. _"But you are. You may not know it yet but you will go on to do, incredible things Belfast. Incredible things. Remember what I taught you."_ "Battlecruisers stick together." I said. _"Exactly. Would I lie to you?"_ Hood asked. I smiled. "No, no you wouldn't." _"I'm always watching."_ She promised and faded from my sight. I could still taste her scent on the wind and so could the other ships too. "Who's that?" Schnarnhorst asked. "The one we're avenging!" I snarled in reply and lunged, bowling her over and sinking my teeth into her throat, tasting the warm gush of blood. Scharnhorst struggled. "This is for Hood!" I spat and leaped off her as the last breath left her body.

My war, my own war had changed. What was once a personal fight for revenge, was now just another war. I felt liberated. And I'm sure the rest of the fleet did too.


	4. Black Pearl Speaks: The Price of Freedom

The sun beat down on me as I left the African coast behind on my way back to Jamaica.

I flew the British flag and was employed by the East India Trading Company. I'd happily do odd jobs here and there for my masters and mostly I enjoyed them.

At 49 years of age, I was the senior ship of the fleet. That mattered little to my crew and my captain in particular.

"Daydreaming again are we Wicked Wench?" He teased. "A bit." I admitted. "I'm more worried about the slaves than anything else. It's not right, what we're doing." I said.

"I know, do you think I ordered that course change for no reason." He replied. "What do you plan to do?" I asked.

He shrugged. "Drop them off at Zerzura and send them home." He said.

"Becket's not gonna be happy about this." I warned.

"So, he's never happy." He replied. "Never satisfied seems like the better word." I corrected. "Just like someone else I know."

"You think I'm unsatisfied?" He asked in mock surprise. "Let see, you chose not to reveal the location of Zerzura like you were supposed to and you took some of the city's treasure for yourself." I replied.

"You know why I did that!" He exclaimed indignantly. "Becket would've sent his fleet out and destroyed the city before turning all its inhabitants into slaves." He growled.

"Or Cortez's Sword?" I continued. "Oh that was entirely your fault." He retorted. "My fault, who led that Spanish murderer right to us, hm? You did steel his sword after all, of course he was gonna chase you." I shot back.

"Ok, ok you win happy?" He asked, throwing his hands up in surrender. "I'm only happy when you're happy Jack, you know that." I replied. "Yes, I know." He said.

We stopped along the coast of what is now Namibia and quickly ordered our black cargo up on deck. Removing the shackles, Jack quickly ordered them away with the words "Make haste if you value your lives"!

I was happy to see them go. Instead of a life in chains, they'd live a life of freedom. I should've known that it'd not go unnoticed back in Jamaica.  
When we arrived a few weeks later, Jack and the whole crew was arrested and imprisoned. I was placed under an armed guard.

Using our mental connection, I called out to my incarcerated captain. "Jack?" I asked. "I hear you Wench." He replied softly.

"Have you figured out a way to get us out of here?" I asked. "Working on it." He replied.

"Please hurry, it seems that Commodore Becket isn't too pleased with us." I said. "You think?" Jack asked, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

A day later, Jack was hauled in chains to his ship. Becket had ordered him to witness me being set on fire and burned down in front of him.

"She's just a ship made of wood. You'll burn your own vessel just get back at me?" He asked, pleading with Becket to spare my life. "She is more than that to you Jack." Beckett replied, his eyes betraying their hatred for him.

"Burn her." He ordered. "No!" Jack screamed. As they lit me on fire I turned my green gaze on him. "We must pay the price for freedom." I whispered.

"But not like this." He replied and breaking free of the guard's grip, raced onto me. He tried unsuccessfully to put the raging fire out but the flames were stubborn and persistent.

Jack could sense that they were being fed by another presence. Before he could form the words, a beam struck him on the head and he fell to the ground, dying. "Jack no." I moaned, struggling to fight against the flames reaching deep inside me.

As I sank beneath the surface and the flames dispersed, Jack made one last desperate attempt to save me.

"Jones, I know you're here. Come to me!" He yowled. The squid faced captain of the Flying Dutchman appeared. His dark beady eyes showed no sympathy for Jack.

"You want me to spare you my domain?" Captain Jones asked. Jack nodded. "And what will you exchange if I do spare you?" He asked.

"Make me captain of my ship for 13 years and I'll work on yours for 100 years after." Jack replied. Captain Jones' eyes flared with interest.

"Indeed. Your soul in my possession. 100 years before the mast. A steep price for just 13 years at the helm." He murmured. "I would welcome more time with Wench." Jack persisted.

Jones sighed. "Very well Jack, you strike a hard bargain though. I look forward to seeing you again in 13 years." He said and vanished.

At the same time, Jack felt himself rising as did I. We broke the water's surface with great force. When I settled, Jack took a look around and recognized the harbor we were in as Tortuga on the island of Haiti, a popular pirate port.

Unconsciously, he fingered the small coin that was strung on the end of one of his bead braids. It was a Piece of Eight, signifying that he controlled the Caribbean Sea. All its innocent shipping, all its reward was his to plunder unchallenged.

His eyes gleamed at the prospect. He hadn't been a pirate for some time, after Christophe he chose to leave that life behind for good. But now, he had no other choice.

"Wench, what do ya say we lower that company flag?" He asked. "Wha, you're not serious are you Jack?" I asked. "Oh yes I am." He replied.

I conceded and let my company flag be lowered. In its place was the pirate jolly roger. A skull with two swords crossed underneath, it was Jack's signature flag, one that his father Captain Edward Teague, had often used.

"You need your name changed, Becket's bound to come after us." Jack said. "I never would've guessed." I muttered sarcastically.

"Look at you, you're as black as a moonless night." Jack exclaimed. I looked at my reflection on the water. "You don't say." I muttered, turning my head to look at it with one eye, batting it several times.

"Show off." Jack muttered. I laughed. "Well, what's my new name?" I asked. Jack thought for a moment.

At last he spoke. "Pearl." He said. "Black Pearl."

And so Black Pearl I was called and for 13 years I ruled the Caribbean. I never learned of Jack's deal with Jones until he was searching for the key to the Dead Man's Chest.

Now I look into the eyes of the Kraken as she takes me under. Jack had sacrificed his soul for me.

"How great is the Price of Freedom." I whispered. And I was dragged down, down, down to the darkest depths of the seas where I would spend eternity in hell.


	5. Britannia Speaks: My American Equal

BOSTON HARBOR JULY 11 1976

"Oh when are we going to get there, Liz?" I whined. Only I could get away with calling my Queen that.

"We get there when we get there Britannia." Liz sighed. She wasn't as stuck up as most monarchs are portrayed to be. Though she had to put her serious face on while on land. At sea she was a completely different person. She was like a child who could never resist the opportunity for a good adventure.

We played this game every time we went on a long voyage. I'd ask 'the question' and she'd answer. Though after nearly a week at sea it did become rather cumbersome for both parties. I knew America had to be close though. It wasn't the first time I'd visited the Yanks. I'd been to New York before but Boston had a very different political atmosphere so I was told.

Approaching the port I was startled by the sound of guns firing. For a brief moment I thought I might be under attack. Had the American's turned on Britain, their oldest ally?

"Relax Britannia." Liz assured me. "It's just a salute."

"Oh yeah, right." I chuckled, feeling a bit embarrassed. I was the Royal Yacht after all. Of course I'd get the 21 guns when entering and leaving a foreign port. I should've expected it.

I was met at the breakwater by a frigate. Not the modern kind, no. This one was three-masted. She was about 100 feet shorter than me but had a height advantage. Her masts were enormous, the delicate spars seemed to reach to the stars. Her frame appeared to be quite muscular for a ship her age. I guessed her to be 70, maybe 80. I had no idea how off I really was but more on that later. She didn't look old in appearance but her eyes, beady black and scorching, seemed to radiate a wisdom and sadness that only a ship of the sailing age could have. The one other ship that came to my mind was HMS Victory. She too had that look about her. But this ship seemed older, wiser, and perhaps a bit more battle-scarred. The dissipating smoke along her port side said she was the one who'd fired the salute.

She dipped her head as I approached her. "HMY Britannia." She greeted.

I inclined my head. "Forgive me but I am not familiar with ships born before the 1860s." I said, a tone of apology in my voice.

She shrugged. "All is forgiven, do not worry." She replied. "I am not a commissioned ship so you may just call me Connie."

"Then I insist upon calling me just Britannia." I said.

"Very well then, come 'just Britannia'." She winked to show me she was teasing.

Rolling my eyes at the Yank's joke, I followed. She led me through the naval base. Destroyers, cruisers, even a few submarines, snapped to attention and saluted us as we went by.

"Not commissioned you say?" I questioned my escort.

Connie chuckled. "It's you they're saluting. You're the star of the show today." She replied.

"Uh huh." I mused, not believing it for a second. Liz gave me a swat.

"Remember, diplomacy." She whispered. I sighed, grumbling to myself for a moment but knowing she was right.

Up ahead, the frigate stopped. "Your quarters. I would offer you something bigger but all the carriers' berths at the moment are being lengthened. Can't keep up with the new scale."

"I know what you mean." I couldn't help but smile. Ports all over Britain were having similar problems. Ships were getting too big, too fast for workers to keep up. "This will do nicely, Connie thank you." I said.

She nodded. "If you need anything, I'll be just outside." She replied.

"So what will you be this trip?" I asked. "Escort, bodyguard."

"I'll be anything you want me to be ma'am." She answered, choosing her words carefully. She stood rimrod straight. She may've been decommissioned but her military training was still first and foremost I saw. Her black eyes maintained focused on some distant point just over my head. Her hull, while not the standard that a commissioned vessel would have, still shimmered with a fresh coat of paint, the brass on her guns gleaming. She'd clearly taken the pains with her appearance even after who knows how long a time she spent 'in ordinary'. I had to give her points for that.

"Stand at ease, sailor." I ordered. Her stance relaxed almost immediately though she was still alert, eyes darting about warily as though she could see assassins under every dock or behind every crane. _"Bodyguard indeed."_ I chuckled to myself. Straightening, I gave her my orders. "Stand guard outside for the time being Connie." I said.

"Aye, aye ma'am." She snapped to attention again, saluted and with a turn of her heel she left. I knew she wasn't far though. She was just outside the closed curtains, on guard for any attacker.

"Nice ship." Liz said to me. "You could make a good friend out of her."

"We're not here to make friends Liz." I sighed, reminding her.

"You are." She shot back.

"But.."

"No 'buts' on this Britannia." She growled in a tone that demanded no argument. "I've come here on an official state visit with President Ford. You're here to meet some ships and actually be a ship for once. Make some friends, enjoy yourself." She smiled. "You've earned a little down time."

I sighed, knowing better than to argue with her. "Yes ma'am." I agreed.

...

The next few days I spent being given a guided tour of Boston. Connie was a good guide, she seemed to know the area well and, as embarrassing as it was, saved my stern from being run aground several times.

"Phew that was close, thanks." I panted, after she'd grabbed my by the stern and hauled me away from an underwater sandbar.

She grunted. "My pleasure ma'am." She replied. "Try to be more careful."

"Any other sandbars I should be worried about?" I asked, this being the fifth time I'd nearly run onto one.

"No, you've discovered all of them." She replied.

"Great." I sighed. "That must be a first for a foreign dignitary."

She frowned now. "I didn't mean it like that..."

I shrugged, not believing nor believing her. "How long have you been in Boston?" I asked. "You seem to know the area pretty well."

She seemed relieved in the change of subject and replied "Too many years to count. I've seen it change numerous times. When I first came here, there weren't even any steel buildings. Beyond the first few blocks, everything was woodland and swamp inland. I could see the tops of the trees over the little shops and houses."

"When was this?" I asked.

"Turn of the century." She replied.

I was confused. Steel construction was relatively new but concrete buildings that existed in Boston in 1900 were at least 1 story. And Boston was too big a port for much else to be seen beyond it.

"Turn of the 19th century." She corrected as if she could sense my confusion.

I blinked, giving her a double take this time. She was older than I thought. I'd estimated 80 at the most but 180. That was new. Not even Victory was that old and she showed her age. Connie hid hers well. Even her silver muzzle wasn't a give away of that number.

She chuckled. "Surprised?" She asked.

"Very." I replied. "How long was.. I mean.." I stammered, not wanting to ask the question outright. My high toned manners told me that asking for a ship's exact age was a rude thing to do.

"1797 was when I was launched here." She replied.

"1797, wow.. Wait you said you were launched _here?!"_ I could hardly believe it.

She laughed. "Edmond Hart Shipyard, doesn't exist nowadays. I wasn't the first of my class to be born but I was the only in which POTUS had the choice in my name."

"Washington chose your name?" I asked, remembering that he would've been commander in chief at that time.

She nodded. "Aye." She agreed, slipping into a rather deep Bostonian accent.

 _"How long has she been here?"_ I wondered to myself. Clearly a long time if she was nearly 2 centuries old as she said she was. "Connie must be short for something." I said.

A guarded look appeared in her eyes but she forced a smile and nudged me with her prow. "Come on." She said and led the way back into the harbor.

...

That afternoon was the afternoon of my departure. Taking on the Queen and her husband, I set sail. Connie accompanied me to the breakwater. The sound of her 21 gun salute still sounding in my ears as we reached it.

"Mufflers on those things would be nice." I grumbled.

She laughed. "Anything you desire, ma'am." She said.

I turned to face her. "There's one thing I don't understand." I said. "England has only one sailing ship left from your era, HMS Victory. The rest were scrapped so how is it you were spared that fate?" I asked.

Her eyes darkened if that was possible. They were already black. She sighed. "Some say I was lucky. I think I was unlucky. Unlucky because I was spared a fate that my sisters did not share in. In the beginning, there were six of us. Now, I'm the only one left."

I could only stare at her in shock as I processed what she just said. Everything finally clicked for me. I now knew who my escort, bodyguard, and servant this trip was. "USS Constitution..." I whispered.

"As I said, just Connie please." She replied with a slight shake of her head.

"Why didn't you say anything?" I asked.

"Would you have warmed up to me if I did?" She replied smugly. "You can thank Enterprise and your queen, it was their idea. They both knew you needed someone to lighten up around. Considering I'm well versed in the art of diplomacy and international relations I was the obvious choice."

I was still reeling in shock over what I'd just learned. "But still, you..." Here was America's Ship of State. Not just the United States Navy's oldest flagship but the only ship who could be considered my foreign equal. And I'd treated her like-like, one of my own subordinates. I was both embarrassed and ashamed at myself.

"Ah, the truth dawns doesn't it." She said, breaking me from my thoughts. She leaned forward, knowing she was pushing her luck but not caring, and pressing her nose to mine, her bowsprit extending past my shoulder. "Remember this occasion, and apply it to your own people. You never know who might be hiding among them." She winked.

I offered her a smile and she pulled back. "It's been a privilege and an honor, Constitution." I said.

She inclined her head. "Likewise, Britannia."

This time I gave her a full smile, pearly whites showing and this one she returned. We exchanged salutes before she held out a wire. "I'd spit on it, but we are VIP rate ships for our nations." She said.

"Since when did that ever stop me?" I asked back, having adopted a bit of the Bostonian accent from being around her. I hacked a big one, spat on it and held my own wire out.

"Now you're talking." She laughed and did the same. With a squish our wires came together in a firm handshake. Then I was off, back to my own country.

My encounter with Constitution had changed me. I wasn't the stuck up snob I'd been previously. I returned to England a changed ship, humbled by my experience. I treated each ship fairly and equally and for the first time, I understood what our closest allies stood for. Having witnessed the close, relaxed nature of the American fleet, I suddenly longed for the same in mine. The Royal Navy was behind the times, I realized. And that would have to soon change...


	6. Britannia Speaks: Why All Ships Are Girl

__Our race wasn't always female, there were males around but that was thousands of years ago. I was the last ship ever born in a natural way. My parents were the loving kind and I adored my siblings but one night changed all that. I had a dream and in it was something that even today I cannot fully describe but I know what "it" was. Do I believe in the humans "God"? Yes I do, because that is who I saw but I cannot really describe him. It's impossible to even try. HE told me that I'd been chosen for something important. I'd take half the species on earth and protect them from a great flood that was coming. Another ship, my betrothed Ark, would take the other half and thus there would be two of every animal including my kind. Things did not quite turn out as planned.

Ark ran aground before he could find me and mate me and the line of ships stopped right there. If I died, my species would be extinct. I was furious at HIM for this! I yelled and ranted and raved. Even today I could care less for that particular divine entity. HE betrayed me, betrayed my entire race and that is unforgivable!

I sailed the world, traveling to every coastal settlement on the Mediterranean coastline. I taught the new civilizations there how to build more of my kind in the hopes that man could somehow build a male but alas that wasn't to be. A male ship's anatomy is so much more complex than a females and since they were so much more aggressive than the females it was rare to find them in a human's care. Only females could be built but it was impressive that man could even build us at all. Before we'd relied entirely on natural processes, now we relied on another species for our own survival. Man in turn relied on us to carry him across greater and greater distances. This interdependence formed a bond unique among earth's species. No where else on the planet will you find such a unique bonding of mutualism in nature.

The building of ships also resulted in a key factor that I had overlooked at the time but would eventually come back to haunt me. As ships were being artificially built and their different types diversifying into greater numbers than before, one thing remained the same. Their fertility. With no natural selection to take hold, all ships since have fully able reproductive organs and can mate with a male if there was one to be found. With a sex drive that could not be sated, ships instead turned to ones of the same gender. There was no longing for children because no ship besides me knew what that could've been like. Instead what was formed is what is now called the Soul Sister bond. This bond is the same as a pairing between a male and a female. Yes, there is sex involved but it runs much deeper than that. To us it is considered sacred and is not something to be tampered with. It's a bond that is both physical and psychological in nature.

I never thought much about the fertility of ships as a factor until World War 2. It was the Nazi's who figured it out. They learned that the genes of a human and that of a ship were compatible enough to breed without the risk of pre or post zygotic barriers. Graff Spee was the ship chosen to be the host mother. The Nazi's goal was to create a human with a ship's strength and stamina to lead the Aryan race to world domination. This failed but what came out of it I thought was much more precious. Two little shiplings, Bismarck and Tirpitz. Both were female unfortunately but I felt that was merely the luck of the draw. The fact was that ships could reproduce and perhaps, with a bit more luck, a male could be born.

Today, I watch from my birth in Edinburough Scotland with barely contained excitement. The news has reached me that Missouri, the US fleet leader, is pregnant. How she manages this I am not sure though I am sure it occurred in the same manner that the Nazi's used to make Graff Spee with child. I do hope one of the children is a boy. If it is then our race can once again flourish without the assistance of humans.

There is no guarantee. Perhaps only females will ever come out of this. After all, 6000 years is a long time. But I can hope, I can always hope...


	7. Campania Speaks: The Switch Plan

I am not a killer by nature. I do not enjoy taking innocent lives. But at the time it seemed that I had no choice.

With Titanic scheduled to go into service for White Star by the end of April, Cunard was all but doomed when White Star gained the upper hand with her.

The competition between our lines had become so intense that it was kill or be killed I'm afraid. I had hoped that when Oceanic made that agreement with Lucania, there would be peace between us. But alas that was not the way of it at that time.

I was forced to resort to the Switch Plan, using workman on the docks to spread the rumor. There was no guarantee that the plan would work. It was all up to Titanic from there. She played right into my props and hit her iceberg right on schedule.

I had kept the whole thing a secret from everyone. I don't know how Lusitania found out but when she did, she was furious. She had always been close to White Star ships and was deeply affected by Titanic's death. She believed I had gotten away with murder.

She was right, I had. And I waited patiently for justice to be served.

I knew Lusitania was going to ambush me, yet I let her kill me without a fight. I had done a horrendous thing and I had to pay for my crime.

I knew Lusitania would go on to be a better leader for Cunard than I ever was. Creating peace and prosperity for the line that would make it stronger than ever.


	8. Cole Speaks: My Revenge

I am still shocked at what happened on a seemingly peaceful day in a seemingly peaceful harbor. One minute, I was enjoying the attention granted me as a US destroyer. The next I was in a struggle for my very life.

A 45 foot hole in my hull was formed by the explosion. I knew it was a terrorist attack. It couldn't have been anything else. My brave crew fought to keep me afloat and I had no intentions of sinking. I should've sunk, the wound was that severe but I couldn't possibly sink when I had a score to settle with the bastards that hurt me. I was placed on the Blue Marlin, a large heavy lift freighter and carried back to the states. I don't remember much about the journey, I was very much out of it.

When I woke up, I was in the repair facility in Norfolk Virginia. My sister, the fleet healer Arleigh Burke was the first face I saw. She was cursing under her breath as she worked on my wound so I knew I would live to see another day but I was astonished to see tears roll down her cheeks.

"Just plain irresponsible!" She growled. "Yemen is known for terrorism, you could've been killed." I smiled. "I'm alright." I said. She nuzzled me. "What would I ever do if I lost you?!" She sobbed. "Shh, it's over. I'm alright now." I whispered. "Don't you ever scare me like that again!" She growled. "No promises." I answered.

I was in the repair yards for a year and just days before I was relaunched, an event occurred which strengthened my resolve for revenge. I was helpless as New York's crown jewel, the World Trade Center was destroyed in an unprovoked attack. I knew it was Al-Queda from the start and I began pleading with my sister and fleet deputy Enterprise to be returned to active duty as soon as possible.

After a year, they agreed and in early 2003 I returned to duty, sailing along the coast of Beruit on a training exercises. Along the way, I returned to Yemen, docking at the same place at which I was when I was attacked 2 years earlier. My eyes warily scanned my surroundings and any small boat that got anywhere near me I snapped at. My wound maybe healed but I still moved with a limp. I would have that forever. Looking down at the water, I whispered to my 17 dead sailors "I will avenge you."

I completed my training mission with no problem.

I had been keeping up with the news of my attacker, Hal Araki, leader of Al Queda's forces in Yemen and I had just recently learned that the CIA hadocked on to his position.

An Executive Order had been made for Araki's assassination and a drone was the best viable option for that. I took on the drone myself and watched it soar away to its target.

I watched the live video feed as Araki's Cecile dissented rated under a Hellfire missile assault. With elation in my voice I shouted "PAYBACK'S A BITCH!"

My gleeful cries of laughter sounded across the ocean. At last, after 3 long years, justice for my dead 17 sailors was served and revenge was mine.


	9. Constitution Speaks: Ironsides

A flash of light cream caught my eye. Turning my head, I saw just what I suspected, a sail and it was moving fast or maybe that was just me. Curious, I turned all the way and cautiously moved closer.

Britain and America were at war and if it was a British warship, I had to be careful. I soon discovered that it was a frigate and what's more it was British.

"Let me at her." I growled. Stewart chuckled.

"Soon enough old girl." He replied.

I hissed through my teeth. The frigate turned to look at me.

"Well, well what do we have here? Another prize to catch perhaps?" She asked.

"The only prize here, is the wanker in front of me." I hissed.

"I suggest you keep that insolent tongue of yours where it belongs." She replied.

I bared my teeth in response, my eyes, blue just a minute ago, now turned black with anticipation for the inevitable battle.

The frigate was named Gurriere, and she was easily a 30 gun warship. She wasn't a first rate ship but she had me just about matched. This would be a good fight.

I swallowed down my rising anticipation and said "Bring it, that is if your old rotten hull can take it."

Gurriere glared at me. "Say that again rebel, and see what happens." She growled.

Well that raised my ire. How dare she call me that! How dare she call me a rebel! I was no rebel, I was a free ship. Free from all the restraints of England. I was American thank you very much and this warship was not my commanding officer, she was my enemy.

Knowing this would piss her off, I replied with a grin "You. Rotten. Hulls"!

My mocking tone had the desired effect and with a snarl of anger, Gurriere lunged. We exchanged broadsides and I could see the damage done to her forecastle. I will not go into details as you may lose your lunch it's that graphic, but I will say this much, it was not pretty at all. Then again, fights in those days never were. In fact I think they probably were more bloody and gruesome than they are today, ah in terms of the visuals that is.

If Gurriere was looking to blow holes in me she was failing. The rounds either fell short or bounced right off my sides. Despite the dangerous and inappropriate situation, I laughed. I couldn't help it. For one thing, the cannonballs tickled when they hit and for the other, the expression of frustration on Gurriere's face was absolutely priceless. What I wouldn't give to see a look like that again.

One sailor on board her watched as his cannon fired its shot, hit my side and bounced off in the water exploding like a depth charge and doing no damage other than hurting the ears of any sea life that didn't have the decent sense to run away when this battle started.

"Hussah!" He shouted in the old British cheer. "Her sides are made of Iron, look at the cannonballs drop off."

He had it all wrong, my sides were made of Oak and good old fashioned American ingenuity but knowing how strong metal could be, particularly iron, it was actually flattering to hear.

I was built to take out any other frigate and to withstand the pounding of larger warships like Gurriere. As one of the few frigates, the only large ships my nation had, the prudent thing for a prized ship like me to do was run. But I didn't do prudent.

A week earlier, my countryman had surrendered Detroit with ease to the invading British who just didn't understand that we were free now. As if they'd ever get their 'beloved colonies' back. Sipping tea every day and gossiping with snobby warships in harbors all the time, no thank you. I think I'll keep my stars and stripes.

Growling, I leaned away from a broadside that Gurriere had fired. Still though I held my own, even as my cannons quivered as the balls were loaded. I would wait.

It was when I was at point blank range that I opened fire. Gurriere screamed as the first shot took down her mizzenmast.

"Horrah, she's a brig!" I sang to myself.

Circling around her stern I launched a second attack that knocked down her mainmast.

"Horrah, she's a sloop!" I giggled, despite the blood that coated her deck from dead and dying crewman making a disgusting sight, I was enjoying this. Battle was what my kind lived for.

I came across her bow and finished the job, toppling her last mast. Not a single spar remained standing.

"Hoorah, she's a barge!" I and my crew snickered. This battle was over.

Gurriere fired a lee gun as she had no masts to raise a white flag from. I accepted her surrender.


	10. Costa Concordia Speaks: Betrayal

I was the pride of Costa Cruises, a powerful, sleek, fast beautiful liner. I was proud of my work, showing people the finest sights the Mediterranean had to offer. But that all changed one night. The night my captain betrayed me. He must've known there were rocks. We were in very shallow waters and my instruments detected it long before the collision happened.

The rock pierced through my hull like a flensing knife to a fish carcass. It hurt too much to even scream. Water came rushing in. I knew I was to die then. The wound was too severe for me to survive, even with proper treatment.

I held on for as long as I could, hoping and praying to the Ancients that my passengers could make it off ok. Then came something I will never forget nor forgive. My captain, the same man whom had pledged his life to me, abandoned me in my hour of need. The first lifeboat that left carried him.

He not only abandoned me but abandoned those under his care. He promised me he'd stay and just when I needed him most, he left. The coward. I shall never forgive him for that, never!

32 people died that night. 32 people who otherwise would've survived had he not left.

I ended up capsizing on my starboard side and I lay there for nearly a full year before the people could get me upright again. By that time, I was weak, exhausted and ready to join the Ancients. I only held on because my anger over what had happened gave me enough strength to.

As they prepared to tow my body to the scrapyard, I found myself becoming weaker and weaker. Having my injured side underwater had prevented any blood from flowing out. Now that it was exposed, the tide of red seemed relentless and there was nothing any ship could do to stop it.

As I breathed my last, my golden gaze scanned the world around me one last time. The sun was just beginning to rise and I took this last chance to admire its beauty.

A century before me, another ship faced a similar fate to mine though it was ice not rocks that delivered the deathly blow. Her captain stayed true to her and they went down together.

How times have changed since Titanic. The people of today grow more cowardly with each generation and yet, there are still some who retain a trace of the old valiant spirit. The Italian Coast Guard risked life and limb to rescue those trapped inside me. The church at nearby Liverno graciously accepted the 4200 people who survived the disaster.

In them, I see what should've been. If only men like that had been in command, then maybe things would've been different and I would not have had to face such a betrayal.


	11. Dreadnough Speaks: The Last Days

How time flies. It feels like only yesterday that I was launched from HM Dockyard in Portsmouth. That was 1902. Now the world is on the brink of war.

I fear that this will be unlike any war ever fought. Some are saying that this war will be the war to end all wars, the Battle of Armageddon. They're wrong, war happens and due to the new technologies that each nation has, this will be a new kind of warfare. And even if this was the final battle of Revelation, not that I believe in the story myself, it wouldn't be the last.

Chaos is the ruling law of nature and peace is just a figment of man's imagination. If it was real, there'd be no need for battleships like me. But there is a need and a reason for that need. That reason is, Satan or no Satan, bad exists in all humans and always will.

Like it or not, despite their extraordinary technology and innovation, humans are still animals and will always have an appetite for warfare.

Survival of the fittest. Man fights because they want to see who's the fittest, who can survive. Different cultures, different subspecies can only live in harmony for so long.

Interspecific Competition I believe is what it's called, and yes you may thank Darwin for that one.

When two species are forced to share the same niche in the food chain there can be only one result, one species has to die. There is no sharing here.

As the weapons get more and more sophisticated, I fear that in his search for conquest, man will devise a weapon meant for his enemies that has the power to destroy us all and will if enough is used.

There I go again, blabbering on about something that may never happen. Where's a soothsayer when you need one.

My captain tells me we are to be at war by the morning, possibly even tonight. Our men are trained and the ships are ready. Goodbye for now my friend and may the Ancients protect us all.


	12. Hood Speaks: With My Last Breath

I was more than ready to take on the German krauts by this point. Bismarck was a demon and she had to be stopped! Beside me sailed Prince of Wales. The brand new battleship looked terrified in more ways than one. For one thing, she was going to go up against the most powerful weapon the world had ever seen. She was also stuck with me, her commander. For a new ship, that was a combo that no one wanted to face and Prince of Wales looked as though she'd faint the whole time. Finally tiring of her antics, I turned to her and hissed "You're being a big baby! I'm not gonna bite you. Suck it up!" "Yes ma'am!" She squeaked. "Call me Hood." I sighed. "Aye Hood." She agreed. "Good girl." I said. I saw something move on the horizon. "There, that's our target!" I growled. "Coming Wales?" "Yep!" She replied, relaxing a bit. She spluttered a curse as my wake splashed across her bow. "Hood!" She complained. "Sorry!" I called back, hiding a chuckle. She fell in behind me as I led the way in a course perpendicular to the Germans. Wales picked up a second ship. "Prince Eugan." I said when she informed me of this. "Bismarck's escort." "Who should I fire on?" She asked. "Concentrate your fire on Prince Eugan. Leave Bismarck to me." I replied. She dipped her head and we raced in, closing the distance as quickly as we could.

I opened fire first, aiming my guns at the bigger of the two ships. Prince of Wales copped me. She was eager to bring all her guns to bear on the enemy but I told her to wait. "Not until we're out of reach of the plunging shell fire." I ordered. She nodded, knowing my weak decks would not be able to take a shell plunging through them. I had to time this perfectly. It was a tense few minutes before I ordered a 20 degree turn to port, settling into a parallel course with Bismarck so we could exchange broadsides. "Bring it you overweight kraut!" I snarled as I trained my guns on her position. Halfway through the turn it happened. Bismarck's 5th shell plunged through my weak aft deck and into my magazine. I could feel it pierce through the bulkheads and knew what would happen seconds before it did. "Get out, all of you!" I cried. Then my world exploded. My cry of agony was abruptly cut off as the explosion tore through my spine, severing all feeling to my aft section. But the explosion continued through to the forward magazine under my B turret. Knowing I only had seconds, I called out to Prince of Wales. "Hood are you alright?" She asked. "Wales, I'm naming you my deputy. The Royal Navy is yours!" I cried. And that's when the second explosion tore through me. I shrieked, my cries carrying over the water to my enemies. Even Bismarck, hell bent on revenge as she was, winced at the sound.

Most sailors that had managed to survive thus far jumped into the friged waters. A majority were carried down with me as I sank. By the time I realized this they'd already drowned but one was still alive. I didn't have long, I knew that. The explosions hadn't killed me but the water pressure would. My hull was sinking so rapidly it couldn't cope with the forces being thrust upon it. I could feel my insides twisting and moaning in protest. Biting back this agonizing pain, I focused my efforts on this lone seaman. The men trapped inside my two turrets fired one last defiant salvo in Bismarck's direction and I was rewarded with the harsh cries of German swearing. The sailor was near death and using the last of my energy, I nudged him with the end section of my bow. This freed him from the suction's grip and he shot up to the surface about 50 yards from me. Gasping in air gratefully, he found himself staring into my ice blue eyes. I gave him a nod. My strength exhausted, I let the darkness consume me and fell to oblivion.

...

 _60 YEARS LATER_

I must admit I was intrigued by the efforts of Northern Horizon and her crew. They certainly knew what they were doing, I'd give them that. It'd been 6 decades, 60 long years since I sunk but at last, at last my wreck was found. I must admit even I was astonished at its state. I'd known I'd taken heavy damage but nothing like this! I lie in three pieces 2 miles down in the Denmark Strait. My stern mangled beyond recognition, which I did expect. It'd been torn apart down to the keel by the exploding magazine. What I did not expect was for my bow to have been torn off as well. Sure, an explosion did tear through the magazine beneath B turret but I never expected this section too to have been blown off at the keel. Debris was scattered everywhere, the conning tower lying 1 1/2 miles from the main wreck. A combination of unusually strong currents and violent explosions had carried it there.

Ships always come down from the Ancients to see those who have discovered them. According to Ancient Laws, Ancients could never interact with a living human except in the case of bodily discovery, such as this one. So far, I had yet to make myself visible to the naked eye but doing so became mandatory when I saw a second ship appear, delivering a man I never thought I'd see again. Tedd Briggs, the same sailor I had saved from drowning that awful day 60 years earlier. I watched, curious as he climbed aboard Northern Horizon. I hadn't made myself visible to her either but she could sense my presence by the sudden chill in the air. "I know you're here." She said. "Smart lass." I praised her and for the first time, made my existence known. She swallowed. "Why are you here?" She asked. "To see an old friend." She replied. "And perhaps, to make new ones." She ducked her head. "I'm nothing special." She said. "No?" I tipped my head to one side. "You found my wreck, that's got to count for something." I replied. She merely blushed. I chuckled, nipping her playfully on her nose. "Where's Briggs?" I asked. "Lower level, port side." She replied. I nodded my thanks and pressed my nose against the porthole window hoping to have a better view inside. I watched as Briggs controlled the ROV, hovering over my bow. I had assumed I'd closed my eyes before I died, turns out I was wrong and the blue orbs were still open, my teeth slightly bared. I shuddered despite myself. Now I understood why people liked to have their eyes closed in death, it was creepy to see those glassy orbs staring at me. Briggs swallowed hard and after laying the bronze plague at my side, he used the ROV's arms to gently close my eyes. After a quick speech and a few tears, Briggs prepared to go outside and lay a wreath in honor of those who died. As tears formed in my eyes as I remembered it all, I blinked them away. The movement was noticed and Briggs turned, gasping in surprise and leaping backwards. "Whoa!" He cried. David, Northern Horizon's commander, looked surprised as well. "It seems we have a visitor." He said. "Indeed." Briggs replied. "I've heard of such things from other shipwreck expeditions but I didn't believe them. Until now." He turned and raced up the stairs with a speed not becoming of his age. "I know who's outside." It'd been 60 years since he'd last seen me, no wonder he was so eager.

I backed off a bit as he came outside to give him some room on deck. "Hood?" He asked. I smiled at him warmly. "Hello Briggs." I said. "It is you!" He gasped. He stretched out a hand, but pulled it back, unsure. "You won't fall through, I assure you." I chuckled. He smiled and extended his hand again, I moved forward and happily pressed my bow against it. "You're still the most beautiful thing I've ever seen." He said. I purred, rubbing against his hand affectionately. "And you're still a shameless flatterer Briggs." I replied. "Haven't changed a bit!" He chuckled. I winked. David came up on deck, recognizing me at once. I gave him a respectful nod.

"24 May, 1941," Briggs began without looking back at him. "I had jumped off the main deck and into the water. Instantly I was dragged down by the tremendous suction Hood generated as she sank. I thought I was a gonner for sure. Until I was suddenly lifted to the surface. I really wasn't sure how but now i think I know." He looked at me. "It was you, wasn't it? You saved me." "Yes." I replied. "I never got the chance to thank you." He said. He held up the wreath that was meant to commemorate those lost that day. "Briggs, I..." I began uncertainly. "Who else." He smiled. I nodded and lowered my bow for him. He gently placed it over my nose. "HMS Hood, it's been an honor serving with you." He said, stepping back and sapping to a salute. "LT. Tedd Briggs, the honor is mine." I replied, returning the salute by raising by bow and forward guns. Ending it, I turned to go. "Hood!" He called after me. I paused and looked back at him. "It's good to see you." He said, his voice breaking. Tears rolled shamelessly down his cheeks. My own vision blurred and I fought hard to keep my voice even, knowing I too was crying, as I replied "And you, Ted." With that, I returned to my own home in the Ancients.

Royal Oak was waiting for me when I returned. "He's a sweet-hearted man." She said. "I know, I was proud to be his ship." I replied. "I hope he knows I'll be watching him." "He knows, I'm sure of it." Royal Oak replied. I wholeheartedly agreed.


	13. Missouri Speaks: The Power of Words

_"If I could turn back time..."_

From the very first lyric, Cher had my full attention. I was docked in Bremerton, seeing final preparations before my commissioning in Long Beach. The famed singer had come aboard a few weeks earlier, shooting scenes for a comeback music video. For the most part, I hardly paid her any attention. She was just one of almost 1000 officers and sailors aboard me at the time. She'd recorded bits and pieces of her new song "If I could turn back time" already but this was the first full performance she would give. Dressed in a tight net suit that left nothing to imagination, Cher took the stage underneath my massive 16 inch guns. I'd only heard a small bits of her song, never the whole thing and as I said, from the very first lyric, she had me.

 _"If I could find a way. I'd take those words that'd hurt you and you'd stay."_

I frowned, my mind automatically wondering to Iowa. Yes, I'd hurt her. Forced her to leave Bremerton almost 20 years ago. I hadn't heard from her since though I knew she was in the reserves at Norfolk.

 _"I don't know why I did the things I did. I don't know why I said the things I said. Pride's like a knife, it can cut deep inside. Words are like weapons they wound sometimes."_

I grimaced. I was nothing more than a prideful bitch to my sister. I deserved the pain I got.

 _"I didn't really mean to hurt you. I didn't want to see you go..."_

By this point I had heard enough of the song to deduce how to harmonize. I was an expert at that, having years of practice. All those years of regret and sorrow over what I had done to my dear sister came pouring out as I joined my voice with Cher's.

 _"If I could turn back time. If I could find a way. I'd take back those words that'd hurt you and you'd stay. If I could reach the stars. I'd give 'em all to you. And you'd love me, love me like you used to do! If I could turn back time."  
_  
If Cher was surprised by the sudden added voice to her song, she didn't show it and continued into the next verse.

 _"My world was shattered I was torn apart, like someone took a knife and drove it deep within my heart. You walked out that door, I swore I didn't care but I lost everything darling then and there."_

She seemed to hesitate and I realized then, that she was waiting for me. For the first time in my life, I song the deep melody of a song that applied to me more than anyone may ever know.

 _"Too strong to tell you I was sorry. Too proud to tell you I was wrong. I know that I was blind..."_

Several crewman's heads snapped towards my bow, some recognizing my voice. Reaching the chorus, I fell back to harmony once again.

 _"But darling if I could turn back time! It I could find a way. I'd take back those words that've hurt you and you'd stay. If I could reach the stars, I'd give 'em all to you. And you'd love me, love me like you used to do! OHHH! If I could turn back time_ _ **.**_ _(If I could turn back time.) If I could turn back time. (If I could turn back time.) If I could turn back time, oh baby!"_

Tears flooded my eyes by this point and I was sobbing softly.

 _"I didn't really mean to hurt you. I didn't wanna see you go. I know I made you cry. But oh! If I could turn back time. If I could find a way! I'd take back those words that've hurt you."_

The key change was unexpected but I adjusted accordingly.

 _"If I could reach the stars, I'd give 'em all to you. And you'd love me, love me like you used to do. If I could turn back time. (Turn back time.) If I could find a way. (Find a way!)..."  
_  
We finished the song together and the crew broke into applause. After they'd broken up, Cher approached my bow. Leaning against my railing, trying to act casual she murmured in my direction "Didn't know you had such a lovely singing voice, Missouri." I blushed. "Mo will do." I managed. "Alright Mo. You joining in was a bit unexpected but welcome. Care to explain why?" She asked. "Your song, it made me think. It's more real for me than you realize." I replied softly. "Who was it?" She asked. "My sister, Iowa." I replied, my voice breaking. A few tears found their way down the sides of my bow before I could stop them. Slipping one hand underneath the railing, she stroked me gently. "Everyone makes mistakes Mo." She said. "That's nothing to be ashamed up." "I never even got the chance to say goodbye to her." I moaned. "Cher, what if she never forgives me?" "You'll never know for certain if you don't try." She replied gently, her fingers making soothing circles on my hull. I leaned into her touch. "Big softie." She chuckled. I blushed again and she laughed this time, placing both hands on my bow, rubbing furiously. Vibrates ran throughout the ship as I purred. "Where's your sweat spot Mo?" She asked. "You're like a big overgrown puppy." "Well my gun turrets are very sensitive." I replied. She raced aft, climbing atop the same gun barrel she'd strided earlier and rubbed the rounded steel furiously. "Ooh." I murmured, growing to like that. I leaned farther and farther over. I was lucky no one was out on deck at the time when I rolled on my side, still purring loudly. Cher was a demon, running up and down my hull, using her hands and her feet as excellent scratchers.

I would never live down when my captain and crew returned later that night, seeing me rolled belly up with Cher atop me, running lazy circles around my keel with her fingers. Though I never saw the singer against after that night, I never did forget her, nor her words of wisdom which I put into practice in 1989, mending my broken relationship with Iowa. Neither of us will ever speak of what occurred at that pier in Bremerton. After all, a woman's secrets are her own business.


	14. New York Speaks: The Ghosts Inside Me

Everything was a blur. I glanced around me, searching for something although I didn't know what. The pain in my side was mounting. I must've been high up for the city below me looked like nothing more than tiny toys. First responders were rushing to the scene, to me. "Stay back!" I cried. I knew somehow if they stayed they'd be killed. But I couldn't speak. The pain from my wound became unbearable and with a series of creaks and groans, I went tumbling down to the ground.

"Oh!" I gasped, waking with a start. Glancing around me, I quickly recognized my surroundings. I was in Norfolk Virginia receiving final orders for Aphiganistan. Taking several deep breaths to calm my rapidly beating heart I relaxed and tried to fall back asleep. I was unsuccessful.

In the morning, my captain came onboard with his orders. "We'll proceed to the Gulf and join Enterprise there." He said. I nodded tiredly. "Did you get any sleep at all last night?" He asked, concerned. "A bit," I admitted. "But no more than usual." He frowned. "You were dreaming again weren't you?" He asked. "Yes." I replied. "What was it this time?" He asked. "The same as always." I said. "A pain in my side just before I fall." He frowned. "We really should have you looked at New York. Having dreams is one thing but having recurring ones, it means something." He said. I nodded. I knew my captain was right. Something was amiss. Over the last year my dreams were getting steadily worse and sometimes I'd hear voices. I was afraid if something wasn't done soon, I'd be useless to the fleet and a useless ship is a dead ship.

"You ready to go?" My captain asked. "As I'll ever be." I replied. My engines were engaged and I reeled in my mooring lines, racing out of Norfolk on my way to Aphganistan. Around noon that day the voices began, merely as a whisper at first but by nightfall they were practically screaming. I felt as though my whole bow was coming apart at the seams. My captain showed me mercy by ordering al stop and I dropped anchor. I was grateful for the rest but it did nothing to levitate the pain in my head. "Is my hull cracked?" I asked. "No, you're sealed up tight." The chief replied. "IT feels like I'm coming apart." I groaned. A wave of nausea overcame me. I staggered, swaying with the swell. "New York?" My captain asked. I convulsed and a hot stream of vomit fell into the water. He gently stroked my side. "Easy, easy girl." He whispered. I coughed, spitting to get the awful taste of bile out of my mouth. "Thank you." I murmured. He gave me a pat. "We'll rest here for the night." He said. I nodded, my eyes already closing. I curled up on the water, hoping that this far from home, my dreams would not find me. I was wrong.

My dreams were worse, I was in the same place, high above a city only this time, instead of feeling as though I was floating in midair, I felt rooted in the ground. I looked down and gasped in shock. My body was not the gray naval hull it once was, instead it was a long silver line stretching 2400 feet, a 1/4 mile high. The view I had of the surrounding city was incredible. Before it'd all been a blur as though I was seeing it through a cloud. Now, I could see details. I recognized the city at once as my namesake, New York. In the distance, I could see the Statue of Liberty standing tall and proud against the skyline. I smiled. "This is not so bad." I said to myself.

I spoke too soon. Movement was seen out of the corner of my eye and before I could identify what it was it struck me. Shooting pain ran all along the left side of my head. 'Oh god this isn't happening!' I thought as I saw the fire department race to the scene. It was my nightmare all over again. "Stay back." I whispered. "Please, stay back you'll be killed." But no one heard or heeded her plea. The pain in my head was building due to the collision but she refused to give in. 'I have to hold on.' I thought. "For their sake I have to." I tried, I tried hard but in the end I was fighting a losing battle. My eyes took one last look at the world around me. My steel flexed and groaned and with a shriek, my long silvery body collapsed and down I went. Just before I hit the ground a pair of voices whispered in my ear my motto "Never Forget!"

I jumped awake. My sudden start brought the captain up from his cabin. "New York?" He asked, rubbing his eyes. "What's wrong?" "I think-I think I'm going crazy." I replied and showed him all that I had seen. My captain was awake at once. "I'm calling Arleigh." He said. Chief Foreign Healer USS Arleigh Burke arrived by morning. She took one look at me and said "I'm taking you back." "But my orders." I tried to protest. "Screw your orders, you can barely keep your keel. You can't fight in your condition and you can tell Enterprise I said that." Arleigh growled. She pressed against me and led me back to Norfolk.

We arrived late in the afternoon. Wisconsin looked at me curiously as I drew near her. "Thought you were in the Gulf?" She asked. "I was going there but Arleigh insisted I return." I replied. Wisconsin frowned, looking at me intently, so intently that I squirmed. Her eyes widened and I was astonished to see them filled with tears. "Wisconsin" Arleigh asked. "What's wrong?" Wisconsin didn't answer at once. Instead she tipped her head to one side, curious. "How long have you been hearing the voices" She asked. "How do you know I've-Wait you can hear them too?" I asked. "Yes." Wisconsin replied. "Good, cause I was worried I was going crazy or something." New York muttered. "I can assure you, you're quite sane." Wisconsin replied. "The voices you hear are real. They are echoes, remnants of your past." She said. "I was only built and launched last year. I have no past worth remembering, at least not in that way." I said. "Oh I think you'll find you do. Stretching back to he 70s if memory serves me correctly." Wisconsin replied. A shiver worked its way down my keel. I groaned. "New York, are you alright? Where does it hurt?" Arleigh asked. "My stem bar., its always my stem bar." I replied. Wisconsin nodded. "That confirms my suspicion." She sighed. "New York, I'm not sure how to tell you this any other way but you're haunted." She said.

"How could I be haunted, I never had any fatalities or anything like that." I exclaimed. "And, ugh can you shut them up. Their constant chatter is hurting my head." No sooner had she said this than the chattering stopped. "They're scared understandably but they want to help you and I think they're becoming aware of their influence. I've never known a more cooperative group of ghosts." Wisconsin said. "When they talk, do you feel it?" She asked. I nodded. "Yes," I replied. "But it's particularly strong in my stem bar. That seems to be the focal point. Although I can't imagine why." She said. "Tell me something New York, when you were built in Northrop what did they build you with?" Wisconsin asked. "Steel, duh. You think I'm made of wood, look at me!" I snapped. "I was looking for a more specific answer than that. Your stem bar is made of steel just like the rest of you but what sets it apart?" Wisconsin asked. As I looked confused she suggested slyly "Maybe perhaps, its origin?" My eyes widened as the truth sank in.

"Impossible." I breathed. "It's quite possible I assure you. When that many people die in a tragedy like that it will leave a mark and it appears that that mark is you, New York." Wisconsin said. I blanched. "Yes you, New York. In all my years, I've never ever seen a supranational connection like yours. I take back my previous diagnosis, you're not haunted. You're not because the ghosts are not separate from you, they are you and you are them. They live within that very steel of yours. You are just as much a ship as you are a tower." Wisconsin said. "How do you know all this?" I asked. "I know because I had something similar happen to me." I said. "Kentucky?" I asked. Wisconsin nodded sadly. I brushed against her, shocked to feel the lack of strength in the older warship's once powerful body. I could feel her ribs just beneath her hull. Her cancer was taking its toll. Wisconsin winced. "Carefully New York." She said. "It's getting stronger isn't it?" I asked. "Yes and New Jersey estimates that if something isn't done soon, I'll have only a year to live." Wisconsin replied. I pressed against her. "Try a new chemotherapy." I said. Wisconsin nodded and I backed off. Arleigh escorted me to my berth.

A few weeks later both me and Wisconsin took ill. Me from my head and Wisconsin from starting the new chemo treatment I had suggested. Arleigh was with her most days and the feisty old Discovery occasionally managed to sneak down from the Smithsonian at night. For a shuttle with an exceptionally sharp tongue and ready scorn, Discovery was very gentle with the old battleship. The NASA fleet owed a debt to the Iowa sisters for helping Challenger so it wasn't a surprise to me to see her here. I groaned as my head began to pound again. It was the end of August and Wisconsin told me that over the next 2 weeks it would only get worse. Already the pain was becoming unbearable, I wasn't sure if I could last another 2 weeks

Arleigh had told San Antonio what was happening and my eldest sister entered Norfolk the next morning. "Arleigh told me what happened." She said. She pressed her bow to mine. "How're you holding up?" I asked. "I could be worse." I grunted. "True, you could be like me." Wisconsin said, looking up from her puking bowl. Arleigh frowned. "You should be resting." She growled. Wisconsin glared at her but Arleigh was persistent and Wisconsin had no choice but to relent. She curled up against the dock and closed her eyes. 'You should do the same" Arleigh said, turning to me. I nodded my agreement. San Antonio pressed against me and we fell asleep together.

The crisp September morning air was pierced by my terrified shriek. Arleigh came running. I was pulling furiously at my mooring lines, my eyes wide. San Antonio was trying to calm me down to no avail. "What happened?" Arleigh demanded. "I don't know." San Antonio sounded on the verge of panicking herself. "One minute she was sleeping and the next, she just jumped up and started screaming." She said. The noise woke Wisconsin, who stared at me through sympathetic eyes. "Arleigh, how long has New York been in port?" She asked. "Ah, 6 weeks." Arleigh replied. "I've never seen her like this. Can't you do something?" San Antonio asked. Wisconsin bit her lip. "Arleigh, what's the date today." She asked. "Um, the 11th." Arleigh replied, her eyes widening as she realized what she just said. "If those ghost don't learn to calm down, New York can expect this every year from now on." Wisconsin sighed.

I had quieted but I was sobbing unceasingly. "No more." I moaned. "Please, no more!" I begged. I closed my eyes, whimpering .After a few minutes I opened them again. Their dark blue color was fierce as fire blazed in them. I swallowed before growling in a strong voice "I will never forget." The I relaxed against San Antonio. "Ann?" I asked. "I'm here." San Antonio replied. "They wanted me to remember." I whispered. Wisconsin nodded. "They tested you didn't they? They wanted to see if you were worthy." She asked. I nodded. "Yes." I replied. "And I won." Wisconsin smiled. "Well done." She said. "Now you really should rest." Arleigh growled. "No, I'm late enough in the Gulf already. I should get going." I replied.

"But not today though" Arleigh said. "No not today. "I agreed. I sighed and turned my gaze on Norfolk and Arleigh knew I was seeing the city as my namesake was nine years ago this day. I closed my eyes. "No, today we honor those who died." I whispered, feeling a happy buzz from the ghosts in response. I smiled. "We have risen from the ashes. We have fought back. We have won but as we rebuild, we will always remember." She declared. "Amen." Wisconsin agreed. Arleigh nodded. "Never forget." She said. I lowered my flag to half staff as I agreed "We will never forget" I vowed "Never."


	15. Oceanic Speaks: My Sister, Olympic

I wasn't originally a loner of my class. During my time in the building yard, it was planned that I would have a sister. She was born just before my launch in 1899.

It was after my maiden voyage a year later that I learned she would be scrapped.

I watched her being dismantled. At times, in my dreams, I can still hear her screams.

Through my own anguish at her demise, I had to admire her bravery. Not once did she beg for mercy, beg to be spared. She just settled down and endured the pain of scrapping.

After a few weeks, she began to succumb to her injuries. "Oceanic?" She called to me. "I'm here." I replied, nuzzling her, ignoring the blood that ran down her sides, staining my bow.

"Protect the fleet. Love them as you would've loved me. They are your sisters now." She rasped. "Olympic, no." I whispered.

My little sister coughed. Blood stained her lips. "Please, Oceanic." She moaned. I nodded. "I will." I promised my voice breaking.

She sighed. "Thank you." She rasped. Her eyes closed for the last time. Wordlessly, I pressed my bow into her side, mourning.

Once the workman had finished demolishing my sister, J. Bruce Ismay, the new managing director of the White Star Line, came over.

"I am, so sorry about Olympic." He said. "If I'd known what they were doing, I would've stopped it." He added. "Thank you." I replied. "You will have a sister one day. I'll make sure of that." He promised.

I never forgot Ismay's words. But as the years passed, I believed that he had. I hold nothing against him for that.

I quickly rose through the ranks to deputy, then leader. Keeping my promise to Olympic, I made a truce with Cunard leader Lucania.

More years passed and I had long since given up hope of a sister. I was an older ship. I was slow and people wanted speed. It would be only a matter of time before I shared my sister's fate.

One day in 1909, I was in the Belfast building yard at Queens Island. I was giving a lecture on safety to Baltic who had just broke the world record of collisions at sea with her 20th ramming in her two years of service.

"I can't run the line properly if one of my crossers is constantly in the repair yard." I growled. "Don't worry, Oceanic. I'll be careful." Baltic replied. I knew she wouldn't.

We'd had this conversation many times before and each time the result was the same. I rolled my eyes.

Before I could say more, a commotion at the workyard stopped me.

"What's going on?" I asked Tommy Andrews as he hurried by. "The new ship has just woken up!" He called.

Since 1907, White Star had been working on the construction of two new liners to add to my fleet. "What's her name?" I asked. Tom paused to look at me. With a huge grin on his face, he said "Her name is Olympic."

So Ismay had kept his promise after all. I was overjoyed. "At last." I whispered, closing my eyes.

That night, I approached the new ship. She was sitting quietly in her slip, fast asleep.

Her younger sister had yet to wake up but I could hear her snoring. She'll make Baltic's pranks seem almost fun when the city hears that snore in the middle of the night. I thought.

Blocking out the noise, I focused on Olympic. Although she was twice my size, I was struck at how much she looked like my little sister. They both had the same dark hull, the same clean elegant lines. The same hidden strength, gracefulness and beauty within that bulk.

I reached up and nuzzled her gently. Olympic sighed and briefly opened one sparkling, dark topaz-amber eye before falling back asleep. I tried to hide my shock. My sister's eyes were the exact same color. A striking contrast to my brilliant blue ones.

"Sleep well." I whispered and headed out, overcome with emotion.

It was a year later, on October 20 1910, that Olympic was finally launched.

Her hull, painted white with red anti-fouling keel paint for the photographs took just 62 seconds to slide into the Lough.

"Well done, Olympic!" I cried, sounding my whistle. The other ships echoed me.

You are launched at last, my sister. I thought. In reply, I heard my sister's sweet voice whisper on the gentle breeze "Thank you Oceanic. I love you and I am with you, always."


	16. Oceanos Speaks: My Illness

I was never a very well ship. By the time I'd turned 3 I knew I was fated to be ill all my life. A huge set of technical and physical problems plagued me throughout. I was born profoundly blind and that would never change. I'd been diagnosed with a whole host of things. Autoimmune disorder, heart disease, hemophilia A and B among others. It's a wonder I survived as long as I did.

By 1991, I was old, I was tired and I just wanted it all to be over with. I was anorexic and suffering from chronic sleep disorder. I was so used to misery by now that sailing through a storm was mere ripples in comparison.

That's when I felt it, severe pain along the center of my belly. I'd suffered some kind of hemorrhaging, I knew that. I'd had so many issues, why not add one more to my miles long list. I tried to push past it and keep going but I found that as time past, I grew heavier and it became harder for me to haul my heavy bulk through the water. That's when I realized, the hemorrhage, which turned out to be broken pump valve, had let water in. The bulkheads were useless as the water could just travel through them in the pipes and out into the other compartments. Water poured out the sinks and toilets with astonishing force but for those who had the sight, they would see it wasn't blue, but red. Crimson red with my blood. Half it it probably was just blood, free of its veins it coursed through me, causing more damage and in the long run it would've poisoned me. I was glad the sheer weight of the water with it was enough to kill me fairly quickly.

Whimpering from the sheer pain of it all I began to roll on my side as the huge swells sloshed the water to one side. I didn't try and fight it. I was too tired, too weak. When I finally went over it was a relief and I sighed. I was aware of a helicopter circling me. The pilot took one look at me and shook his head. "Poor old thing." He murmured.

Even in this state I found a way to hold on. I had to at least long enough for all my people to get to safety. One of them, a young boy no more than 13 swam up to my bow and began stroking my nose. Not hearing him coming, I jumped a bit at his touch. "It's alright, I'm not gonna hurt you." He said. "Get out of here kid. Or you're going down with me." I rasped. He shook his head. "I will go eventually but you look like you need some company right now." He replied. I sighed. "Thanks kid." I murmured. I coughed, tasting the sharp tang of blood as it glistened on my lips and dripped down off my chin. "Rest old girl, you've earned it." He said, his fingers pressing against my snout. I reveled in his touch, the first nice hand I'd felt in a long while. "Thank you, lad. Thank you..." Much to my astonishment I found that I could see him. In my last moments, I could see. It was my own gift from the Ancients. Eagerly, I took everything in and though the waves were crashing, the sea more white than blue and the sky dark gray, crackling with lightning I thought it the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen.  
"So violent, yet so beautiful." I murmured as darkness washed over my eyes once more. The boy gazed into my now dead gaze and with gentle fingers he closed my eyes and gave my bow a soft kiss. "You were a fine ship Oceanic. You knew nothing but suffering in life and yet you did your best always. I hope you find peace." He said and swam to the nearest lifeboat from which he watched me sink.


	17. Parche Speaks: Losing? Pah!

_Oh goodness me, where to begin. Well, I probably should introduce myself. My name is Parche, USS Parche (SSN-683) more properly. I am the most highly decorated ship in US history with 9 Presidential Unit Citations, 10 Navy Unit Commendations, and 13 Navy Expeditionary Medals. Sometimes I wonder how I managed to stay afloat with so many medals on my bow. Well anyway, I suppose I should at least try to explain how I managed that. Am I brilliant? Yes! Am I crazy? Oh you bet!_

...

1ST PRESIDENTIAL UNIT CITATION, 1979

I sailed back into the submarine based in Groton, Connecticut with my head held high. Nautilus was docked at her berth. The eldest submarine eyed me suspiciously. "What's got you in such a good mood, Parche?" She asked. I grinned and showed her the new decoration on my sail. Her eyes went wide. "You're kidding me! You actually got the Presidential Unit?" She gasped. "Well it's about time!" Another submarine, Flasher, growled! She had gotten one herself a few years back. I giggled. "Like it?" I asked. "It suits you." She replied. I already had 2 Expeditionary Medals and 3 Navy Unit Commendations but the Presidential Unit was one I'd always dreamed about.

...

3RD PRESIDENTIAL UNIT CITATION, 1981

"Hello all!" I called as I sailed into Groton, the clanging of the now three Presidential Unit medals against my sail heard all around. "For goodness sakes Parche, you're killing me here!" Nautilus cried. I grinned. "What's your secret, seriously girl?" Flasher grumbled. "That's three years in a row." "I know." I replied, flashing her a smug grin. "Just don't too big a head over it. You're entitled to be a bit smug but nothing overboard." Flasher grumbled. I just giggled.

...

4TH PRESIDENTIAL UNIT CITATION, 1982

Nautilus just about fainted when she saw that I'd gotten my forth Presidential Unit. Flasher looked insulted. "You've got to tell me your secret, please!" She begged me. "Not a chance in hell!" I laughed. "I don't even know what I'm doing!"

...

5TH PRESIDENTIAL UNIT CITATION, 1986

It took me a few years but I ended up receiving my fifth Presidential Unit Citation. This time, Nautilus actually did faint and I got the feeling that if I got any more of these, I'd give the poor old submarine a heart attack. Flasher just laughed. "Ah, it was bound to happen. You just don't know how to lose Parche." She sighed. I grinned.

...

6TH PRESIDENTIAL UNIT CITATION, 1993

As soon as I surfaced the clanking of my medals could be heard. "Well guess who's coming home for dinner." Wisconsin grumbled as I sailed into Norfolk. By this point I had 6 Presidential Units, 8 Navy Unit Commendations, and 7 Navy Expeditionary Medals. "You are insane." The battleship growled. "I know." was my reply.

...

7TH PRESIDENTIAL UNIT CITATION, 1994

It'd been a while but I finally managed to earn the Presidential Unit multiple years in a row. Nautilus almost did have a heart attack at the sight of all my flashy metals and Flasher turned green with envy. "I give up!" She declared at last. "There's no way I'm ever gonna be as crazy as you!" "And don't you forget it!" I laughed.

...

9TH PRESIDENTIAL UNIT CITATION, 2004

I may've been old, but I proved my metal by earning my 9th and final Presidential Unit Citation. By this time, I'd become notorious for showing off in port. Being on the surface presented me with some of the few times that I could actually wear my metals. They shimmered brightly against my black hull. "Parche." The admiral sighed to me one day. "Yes sir?" I asked. "You've got to stop." "Stop what?" I asked innocently. "Seriously, look at you. It's a wonder you haven't rolled bow over stern by now." He exclaimed, gesturing to the flotilla of metals dangling from my sail. "What can I say sir, I'm a crazy ship who just doesn't know how to lose." I replied. "You are crazy, but you're an awesome crazy!" I couldn't help but laugh with him at that.


	18. U-20 Speaks: Targets

I've always wanted to fight for my country. Now it seems I'll have the chance.

With the assassination of the Austrian Archduke Francis Ferdinand, a close friend of the Kaiser by the way, war is inevitable. We are ready to declare war on Serbia if need be.

Although that'll lead to Russia, France, and Britain declaring war on us, and years of bloody fighting. Germany's only concern is America.

America is the world's leading industrial power. If they join the war against us, we may as well raise the white flag right then and there as there is no way we can stand up to that country's might.

But, I don't want to talk about that. I'm supposed to tell you about a submarine's potential targets. Well, if Germany was to go to war, a sub's job would be to attack and sink as much enemy supply shipping as possible.

If a country can't eat, it can't fight and if a country can't fight, it can't win. As the great Napoleon once said, "an army marches on its stomach." How ironic to think that strategies used by our army were created by our current enemy.

If I had to choose a specific target, it would be Lusitania. But only if she was an HMT or AMC, otherwise it'd be illegal and I'd only be taking the lives of civilians or wounded men who have no way of defending themselves. I have no desire to be a murderer and break the law of the latest Geneva Convention.

Why Lusitania though? She's a greyhound, a Blue Riband holder. In simpler words, she's a celebrity in Britain and to sink her would be a huge blow to their morale.

Oh, that's U-103 calling. I better go and see what's going on. In the meantime, I suggest leaving Germany for America, it'll be safer.

Oh, you're going to Cowes next. Well, ok. See what Dreadnought has to say about the "accomplished" Royal Navy. If you want to come back, I'll be here until I am called elsewhere. And remember, submarines are silent hunters so watch for what's below the waves or else.


	19. Red Speaks: Old But Mighty

_She was revered by all ships, from the smallest sailboat to the largest liner. She was a legend among her own kind, a symbol of peace and prosperity throughout the world. Ships who have had the honor to meet her have all said wherever she goes, she radiates love and compassion to all. I was just a young thing at the time, barely a year old. But I remember. That one week will remain engrained into my memory forever. The week I met and became friends with USS Missouri._

...

SYDNEY AUSTRALIA OCTOBER 1986

All the ships were talking about it, the 1986 Naval Review, even us little sailboats though we'd never take part in it. I had taken a great interest in naval affairs. My curiosity always made me eager to learn more about things I myself could never enjoy. If I couldn't do it myself, then I could always here the stories from those who had. I was a familiar face around the destroyers and cruisers as I was always asking them questions. Always patient, they had come to enjoy my presence at the naval docks. When I joined them there late in the afternoon as I usually did, I noticed activity. They were all very excited, chattering amongst themselves. I approached the nearest destroyer, Foster, and asked "What's going on?" "Ah, Red. Thought you'd never get here! Haven't you heard the news?" She asked excitedly. Curious, I shook my head. "No, I only just got here." I replied. "The Americans are sending a delegation to the naval review, and Missouri is leading them!" She exclaimed. "Missouri, get out of here!" I growled, not believing her. "No, I mean it. She is. She left the states a month ago. She should be here any time." Foster grinned. "You are serious!" I gasped. "Ooh, I can't wait to see her. I wonder what she's like." I squealed. "I don't know, but I hear she's pretty nice. Lord only knows how she is after spending 30 years in mothballs." Foster grunted. "True." I agreed. "So do you have any stories for me?" I asked. She laughed. "You are insatiable." I giggled. "Why not? I like naval history." I replied. "Oh come here you!" She laughed and gave me a nuggie. "Foster, oh come on!" I whined, squirming in her grip. She laughed and eventually let me go.

2 days later, I was playing catch the fish with a few of my friends when I saw her. She was just an outline on the horizon at first but even at that distance my keen eyes and time around other military ships told me it was distinctly battleship. And as she cleared the breakwater, I knew who it was. "It's Missouri..." I breathed in awe. My two friends stopped their game to stare. I left them to galk and sailed up the channel towards her. But as other boats crowded around her, I hung back. I was just a simple sailboat. What if she didn't like me? How could she like me?!

Missouri murmured greetings to the smaller craft on her way to her berth at the Waterloo Pier. She held herself high as she went, pride radiating off every inch of her hull. Pride, but not smugness. I kept my distance still, following several ship lengths back but not getting any closer than that. Docking, she was tied to the dock and her sailors disembarked, mingling with those of the Australian Navy. Other small craft crowded around her and Missouri began speaking to them. I moved closer to hear better. "When did you first fire your guns?" One asked. "That was a long time ago. November 1944 I believe, off Norfolk. I was conducting my sea trials." Missouri replied. The questions went on and like all the other naval ships I had been around, Missouri answered each one with infinite patience.

Nightfall came and the small craft dispersed. I however, remained. Missouri was settling down to sleep when she saw me. She straightened up. "Hey, you alright?" She asked, moving forward. Uncertain, I backed away. "Oh come on now. I'm not gonna hurt ya." She soothed. As usual, my curiosity got the best of me and I approached until I was right beside her, gazing up at her with wide eyes. "What's your name little one?" She asked gently. "Red." I stammered out. "Red? Fosters friend." She murmured. I nodded. "I had assumed you'd show up sooner or later." She said, leaning against the dock. "Well, I'm sure a curious little thing like you has many questions." "I had just one." I replied. "And it's been answered." "You wanted to see if I would be friendly to sailboats." She said. I nodded. "Well you needn't fear anything from me. I'm not a prejudiced sort like some of my compatriots." She assured me. "I believe you." I replied. She nuzzled me. "Come here." She murmured. My small form curled against her side. "You don't really have anywhere to go back to do you?" She asked. "Not really. I usually sleep with Foster though." I replied. "Well if you want you can stay, it's up to you." She said. With a squeal of happiness, I cuddled into her side, finding her surprisingly comfy. Missouri laughed softly and curled around me.

Foster sailed around the harbor. Since I hadn't returned to her that night she went out to search for me. That's when she happened upon Missouri's berth. She would later tell me I looked as adorable as ever. I was curled into Missouri's side, the battleship's big gray head as my pillow. Smiling at the cute sight, Foster sailed back to her berth at the naval yards.

Following naval exercises, Missouri prepared to leave Sydney. I knew the chances of her returning were slim. "Will I ever see you again?" I asked. She shrugged. "I don't know, Red." She replied. "This is a changing era and it's only a matter of time before I am decommissioned again. Perhaps for the last time. I'm far from young you know." "But you are still Mighty." I murmured. "You will always be Mighty Mo to me." She lowered her head, giving me a gentle nuzzle. "Thank you Red." She murmured. "I won't forget you." "Nor I you." I replied, tears coming to my eyes. We shared one last nuzzle and I felt something wet drop on my decks, a tear. It was Missouri's. The battleship's silver eyes swam with them. "Farewell, Red." She turned and sailed off. "Farewell, Missouri." I whispered after her.

...

 _I never saw her again after that. Years later, I heard she'd been made a museum at Pearl Harbor. Following her visit to Sydney, I became the first sailboat to enter the Naval Academy. Commissioning into the Australian Navy I made patrols up and down the Australian coast_ _for several years before retiring. I entered into racing after that, winning the American Cup several times and finishing in the top 3 in races around the world. But I never went to Hawaii. I don't know why, despite all my sails, all my races, those islands were the one place I could never seem to get to._

 _Today, I am an old ship, far to old to even attempt a coastal run much less a sail halfway around the world. But thanks to a few friends of mine, I might get that chance. Final preperations are being made to tow me to Hawaii. I can only hope I'll still be alive to see my old friend, one last time._

...

PEARL HARBOR HAWAII DECEMBER 2014

"Are you sure you're alright Red?" Arleigh asked me as she sailed into port. "I'm fine, Miss. Burke." I replied with a smile. "The tropical climate does wonders for these old bones." The healer sounded her horn, rendering honors as she entered Pearl Harbor. Docking at her berth, workers offloaded me into the water beside her. Looking around, I saw Missouri across the channel. "Good trip Arleigh?" She asked. "Yes." The healer replied. "How was Sydney?" The battleship asked. "Hospitable." Arleigh answered. Missouri laughed. "The Aussies sure know how to put on a good show." Arleigh murmured her agreement. "I have someone here who wants to see you." She said and nudged me forward.

Our gazes met across the harbor and it was like time stopped. I felt like it was 1986 again and Missouri was just arriving in Sydney harbor, all decked out in flags. The battleship's silver eyes widened in recognition. "Red?" She whispered in disbelief. "It's me, Mo." I replied. I sailed over to her side and she embraced me. "Oh Red! I thought I'd never see you again!" She cried. I could feel her tears soak my hull but I didn't mind, I was crying too. "Neither did I, old friend." I murmured.

Getting my first good look at her in years, I could see she'd lost weight. She moved a bit sorely but the twinkle in her eyes remained. "You've gotten thinner." I noticed. "I suffered from Propellerous 2 years back. I'm still in the process of fighting it off." She replied. I nodded. "You look good for someone who's battling a near fatal disease." I praised. "Arleigh's herbs work wonders." She replied. I leaned against her. "I'm so old now. I wasn't even sure if I'd have this second chance to see you but praise be to the Ancients I could." I gazed up at her. "You may be an old battleship now Mo, but you're still Mighty. And you'll always be Mighty to me. My Mighty Mo." She pressed her muzzle to my deck. "And you Red, are still the same curious sail boat you were all those years ago. You've done so much with your life. I'm proud of you." Her voice chocked and a fresh wave of tears coated my hull.

...

A FEW DAY'S LATER, MISSOURI'S POV

 _Red passed away in the night a few days after she arrived in Pearl Harbor. Representives from the Australian Navy arrived as I oversaw her burial with full military honors. Red was a sailboat yes, but she was far from insignificant. She had the heart of a warship, and the spirit to match. I will never forget her, not ever!_


	20. Interlude I: List of Works

_Here is a full list of works that will all be written and posted eventually. Years are added in addition to the titles_

The Olympian Sisters _"Three Sisters to lead the way. Three sisters to the toll must pay"_

 **Book 1: The Birth of Titans (1908-1914)**

 **Book 2: The Great War (1914-1918)**

 **Book 3: The Gilded Age (1918-1929)**

 **Book 4: Times of Change (1929-1941)**

The Iowa Sisters _"From the fires of war, four shall rise. The young, the brave, the strong, the wise."_

 **Book 1: Pacific Fire (1941-1948)**

 **Book 2: The Red North (1948-1956)**

 **Book 3: The Dangerous Jungle (1956-1970)**

 **Book 4: The Desert Storm (1970-2010)**

 **The Ancient Sisters** _"On their backs they carry the flame of Hope until the day it is needed no more."_

 **Book 1: The Damned (1670-1750)**

 **Book 2: The Immortal (1790-1997)**

 **Book 3: The Cursed (1870-1889)**

 **Book 4: The Haunted (2009-2020)**

The Silent Sisters _"The black predators shall destroy the Old, and a new age they shall own."_

 **Book 1: The Hunt (1860-1865)**

 **Book 2: The Kill (1939-1945)**

 **Book 3: The Strike (1958-1991)**

 **Book 4: The Rising (2047-2063)**

The Star Sisters _"A world united from fear, shall rise with a voice for all to hear."_

 **Book 1: A United Earth (2063-2100)**

 **Book 2: The Great Experiment (2100-2140)**

 **Book 3: The Final Frontier (2140-2159)**

 **Book 4: The Federation (2159-2161)**

The Silver Sisters _"From the ashes a leader shall rise, with the power of the stars behind her blue eyes"_

 **Book 1: The Silver Lady (2245-2270)**

 **Book 2: The Journey (2270-2275)**

 **Book 3: Resolutions for Peace (2275-2280)**

 **Book 4: The Last Constitution (2280-2293)**

The United Sisters _"A change of the guard will herald an era of mortal peril."_

 **Book 1: Atonement (2293-2315)**

 **Book 2: A Rising Darkness (2315-2329)**

 **Book 3: The Ambassador (2329-2335)**

 **Book 4: The Veiled Threat (2335-2363)**

The Galaxy Sisters _"The silver lady shall rise again and bring a new dawn for her Federation."_

 **Book 1: A Galaxy's Power (2363-2367)**

 **Book 2: Defiance is Strength (2367-2371)**

 **Book 3: The Sovereign Leader (2371-2380)**

 **Book 4: The Name of the Lady (2382-2400)**

Special Editions

 **Book 1: Oceanic's Secret (c. 1900)** _"A young leader shall rise and make a line to become prized."_

 **Book 2: Dreadnought's War (c. 1906)** _"From her, a line shall be born."_

 **Book 3: Bismarck's Revenge (c. 1940)** _"Anger shall cause death."_

 **Book 4: Baltic's Quest (c. 1906)** _"Seeking the Truth for who you are."_

 **Book 5: Aquitania's Choice (c. 1913)** _"Ambition or Heart?"_

 **Book 6: Pearl's Wish (c. 1700)** _"The call of Freedom sounds in her heart."_

 **Book 7: Victory's Destiny (c. 1775)** _"Cursed and shunned for eternity."_

 **Book 8: Westra's Prophecy (c. 2006)** _"Protecting the innocent from harm."_

 **Book 9: Challenger's Prelude (c. 1980)** _"The love of the sea guides her."_

 **Book 10: Britannia's Tale (c. 6500 BCE)** _"Heart of a Warrior. Soul of a Savior."_

 **Book 11: Columbia's Warning (c. 1979)** _"A dire threat only she can face."_

 **Book 12: Constitution's Song (c. 2240)** _"The graceful swan sings."_

 **Book 13: Excelsior's Family (c. 2276)** _"The experiment shall rise."_

 **Book 14: Ambassador's Love (c. 2306)** _"Forbidden but true."_

 **Book 15: Galaxy's Strength (c. 2357)** _"A battleship's pride creates."_

 **Book 16: Sovereign's Desire (c. 2369)** _"The stars shine bright in her eyes."_

 **Book 17: Defiant's Heart (c. 2362)** _"Small, but fierce!"_

 **Book 18: Stargazer's Journey (c. 2340)** _"With a Star to steer her by!"_

 **Book 19:** **Voyager's Sight (c. 2360)** _"Danger at every turn."_


	21. Interlude II: Timeline of the Series

_A full timeline of the ship stories I have posted, complied together they form what I've named "The Leviathan Series"._

 **6510BC:** Britannia born

 **6500BC:** Great Flood. All male ships wiped out.

 **6000BC:** Man develops first built ship. Female based on Britannia.

 **1000BC:** Birth of the Romans. Britannia serves with their navy.

 **0AD:** Pact with the Ancients. Tradition of Illustrius is born.

 **500AD:** End of the Roman Empire.

 **900AD:** England is born. Britannia joins the fledgling Saxon navy.

 **1314AD:** The Black Plague in Europe.

 **1337-1443AD:** Hundred Years War

 **1492AD:** Britannia accompanies Columbus on his voyage to the Americas.

 **1580AD:** Britannia named Protector of the British Empire.

 **1600AD:** Slave trade is born.

 **1652AD:** First Anglo-Dutch War

 **1665AD:** Second Anglo-Dutch War

 **1666AD:** Great London Fire

 **1672AD:** Third Anglo Dutch War

 **1690AD:** Flying Dutchman is born in Rotterdam

 **1695AD:** Black Pearl is Born in Amsterdam

 **1705AD:** Black Pearl captured by British and given to EITC

 **1740AD:** Black Pearl burned and raised by sister Flying Dutchman

 **1749AD:** Brethren Fleet defeats the Royal Navy

 **1776-81AD:** American Revolution

 **1777AD:** HMS Serapis creates "Project Sigma". The ship's abolitionist movement against the Code of Honor.

 **1778AD:** Battle of Flambourough Head. Royal Navy deputy HMS Serapis betrays England and becomes an American warship.

 **1781AD:** Battle of Yorktown, Jack Sparrow is killed

 **1783AD:** Black Pearl named first leader of the United States Navy

 **1795AD:** Fifth Anglo-Dutch War

 **1797AD:** USS Constitution born

 **1805AD:** Barbary Wars. Black Pearl killed beside USS Philadelphia after she refuses to leave the stricken frigate. USS Constitution named new leader.

 **1812AD:** War of 1812. Constitution successfully leads the US Navy to victory.

 **1859AD:** Constitution steps down as leader.

 **1860-65AD:** American Civil War.

 **1863AD:** USS Monitor killed in action. USS Constitution forced to take command once again.

 **1864AD:** Fleet healer USS Constellation burned and apprentice USS Housatonic killed in action. USS Constitution forced to take on double roles.

 **1871AD:** Amazon (Mary Celeste) is born in Halifax.

 **1880AD:** RMS Atlantic befriends Mary Celeste

 **1889AD:** Mary Celeste lost at sea

 **1899AD:** RMS Oceanic is born in Belfast

 **1902AD:** RMS Atlantic lost at sea. RMS Oceanic becomes leader of White Star

 **1903AD:** White Star Line is taken over by JP Morgan

 **1904AD:** Alliance between Cunard and White Star established

 **1909AD:** RMS Olympic and RMS Titanic are born

 **1910AD:** RMS Olympic is launched

 **1911AD:** RMS Titanic is launched

 **1912AD:** RMS Titanic lost at sea

 **1914AD:** RMS Oceanic dies. RMS Olympic named leader of White Star

 **1914-18AD:** The Great War

 **1916AD:** HMHS Britannic lost at sea

 **1919AD:** Influenza Outbreak

 **1935AD:** RMS Olympic and RMS Mauretania die at scrapyard

 **1935AD:** RMS Queen Mary is born

 **1939-45AD:** World War 2

 **1941AD:** Pearl Harbor attacked. USS Arizona and USHS Solace killed in action. USS Pennsylvania becomes fleet leader. And USS Vestal becomes fleet healer.

 **1942AD:** Battle of Midway. USS Yorktown lost at sea. American victory

 **1942AD:** Battle of Guadalcanal, fleet deputy USS Northampton lost at sea.

 **1942AD:** Fleet deputy USS Chicago lost at sea.

 **1945AD:** Fleet deputy USS Indianapolis lost at sea.

 **1948AD:** USS Pennsylvania dies at Bikini Atoll. USS Missouri becomes leader

 **1950AD:** USS Missouri grounds herself

 **1950AD:** RMS Aquitania sent to the scrapyard. RMS Oceanic becomes leader of Cunard-White Star

 **1956AD:** USS Nautilus born as first atomic submarine

 **1965AD:** USS Enterprise CV-65 is born

 **1969AD:** RMS Queen Mary retired. USS New Jersey receives tour in Vietnam.

 **1969AD:** USS Enterprise fire. Fleet deputy badly injured.

 **1972AD:** FPV Westra is born.

 **1986AD:** USS Challenger lost. USS Missouri post-humanously gives her a rank in the Navy

 **1988AD:** Border dispute between US and Russians. Cunard healer RMS Britannic is killed

 **1989AD:** Tragic turret explosion aboard USS Iowa

 **1991AD:** USS Missouri and USS Wisconsin sent to Persian Gulf

 **1995AD:** USS Missouri sent to Pearl Harbor as a museum

 **2001AD:** 9/11 terrorist attacks

 **2009AD:** USS New York born

 **2014AD:** USS Wisconsin dies of cancer

 **2015AD:** HMS Victory's curse is lifted

 **2016AD:** USS Missouri gives birth to first male ship in over 8500 years. Names him USS Enterprise

 **2020-23AD:** Homo-machine War. Majority of humanity sides with ships

 **2043AD:** Pact made amongst nuclear holding nations to not use nucs unless all other ordiance has been expended

 **2047AD:** China fires nucs into South Korea, breaking the cease fire.

 **2047-2053AD:** Third World War. 600 million dead.

 **April 5, 2063AD:** First Contact occurs

 **2075AD:** First major meeting between the UN and Vulcan Counsel occurs

 **2119AD:** Missouri's son USS Enterprise undergoes major refit for space exploration.

 **2150-60AD:** Earth-Romulan War

 **October 9, 2161AD:** Federation Charter is signed and the United Federation of Planets is formed

 **2245AD:** USS Enterprise NCC-1701 is launched

 **2250-2293AD:** Klingon Wars

 **2285AD:** USS Enterprise lost

 **2286AD:** USS Enterprise-A launched

 **2293AD:** Kithomer Accords

 **2293AD:** USS Enterprise-B launched, Kirk lost to the Nexus

 **2311AD:** Tomed Incident. Treaty of Algeron signed.

 **2329AD:** USS Enterprise-B lost to unknown causes

 **2332AD:** USS Enterprise-C, Ambassador class is launched

 **2337AD:** Secret mating of USS Enterprise-C and USS Ambassador

 **2344AD:** Battle of Narenda III. USS Enterprise-C travels through a time-rift to an altered future. Convinced to return back by successor USS Enterprise D

 **2347AD:** Massacure at Setlik III. Sparked Cardassion War

 **2350AD:** Battle of Maxia. USS Stargazer presumably lost

 **2363AD:** USS Enterprise D launched at Utopia Planetia

 **2365AD:** First Contact with the Borg, Battle of Wolf 359

 **2371AD:** USS Enterprise-D is lost

 **2372AD:** USS Enterprise-E is launched

 **2371-78AD:** USS Voyager finds her way home

 **2373-75AD:** Dominan Wars

 **2379AD:** Romulan Civil War

 **2380AD:** Enterprise-E becomes flagship of the Klingon/Federation/Romulan Alliance


	22. Bararoo Speaks: The Loudest Scream

_An aging ship must fight to protect her mate during one of the world's greatest disasters._

 _..._

26 AUGUST 1883

Most ships in the Dutch-Indonesian fleet were a special breed. Some appeared civilian, some appeared military. But they all had one thing in common, they were children of the Roman god Vulcan. Born of fire, alive through fire, and sometimes, died in fire. HMDS Krakatoa was no different. She wasn't the largest ship by any means but she was goodly sized in her own right. She was leaning against the dock at her berth in Batavia, the Javanese capital. For weeks she'd been feeling sick, down with nasty bouts of stomach bugs. She knew it was only a matter of time. For 200 years pressure had been building up deep within her island. She'd been doing her best to hold it back but she was only delaying the inevitable. She groaned, forcing back another wave of nausea. If she gave in now, thousands would die. She would hold back until winter if she had to, when the shipping in the busy Sunda Straits was reduced. Another wave came over her, right on the heels of the first. This one was so powerful it forced Krakatoa roll on her side, clutching her stomach. Her teeth were clenched and her breathing was highly erratic.

"No..." She rasped, tilting her head back as she forced back the bile as it rose in her throat. She fought it back for several minutes. "No, you don't!"

I was a few berths down and looked at the larger ship pityingly. Krakatoa was trying so hard to keep a lid on the forces pressing in on her. Sighing, I left my place at the pier and approached the suffering warship.

"Let it go." I murmured.

Krakatoa, her eyes shut and teeth bared to the gumline managed to hiss "No."

"Let it go, Craya." I growled.

"No, I can't!"

"HMDS Krakatoa, quit holding back what you cannot control! It's killing you." I reared up and when I came down I hit her right in the belly.

Krakatoa squealed, jaws parting momentarily before she clenched them tightly shut once more. The pain was the first thing that hit her. My strike was relatively soft but against such a sensitive area, it was as good as a kick to the gut. Nausea came instantly after and Krakatoa put everything she had into forcing it back. This time though, the forces deep within her fought back with a vengeance. Hot liquid bile rose through her throat and into her mouth, filling it quickly. Krakatoa tried but this time she found she could not force it down.

The big ship convulsed, then started vomiting up a storm. I positioned myself alongside, ignoring the vomit as it floated past and around me. Volcano or not, killer or not, Krakatoa needed me. I knew her well and having seen how hard she'd fought I knew she'd never do what she did that day if she had the choice. The worst part was, she never did.

I held her head up, making it easier for her to breathe. She hardly had any time for that as she convulsed repeatedly, unable to stop. Unable to control her own body. Ash clouds blotted out the sun and a relentless gray fall smothered the two of us. I couldn't see my own bowsprit, let alone the ship I was holding. I could still hear her though, whimpering pitifully in sheer agony in those few moments between vomiting convulsions. Her whole body shook with pain and distress. I didn't need my sight to detect that.

This went on for several hours and just when I thought things might die down, nature proved me wrong. A tremendous explosion rocked me, the shockwave strong enough to push me against the dock. It was the first of four massive explosions that Krakatoa would suffer. The big ship beside me screamed, her hull seam bursting at the shoulder. Blood poured from the wound, sticky red and viscous. I didn't try licking it clean. Fresh blood from a volcano ship was a corrosive like no other. My iron hull stood no chance. Diluted in the water it was okay but still potent in large amounts.

I remained by her side though, determined not to leave. Less than half an hour later a second explosion tore through my friend. Already exhausted by her previous efforts, Krakatoa could do little more than squeal as both her flanks tore open. She rolled fully on her side, letting the blood coat her exposed port side. I still held her head, ignoring the vomit that quickly stained my hull the tide of which seemed relentless. With each eruption, Krakatoa got worse and worse and as the blood flowed her ability to cope with the rapid change diminished.

It was still a surprise to me however when a sound I will never forget boomed in my ears at about 10 that morning. I would later learn it was the loudest sound in recorded history. It was matched only by the scream escaping the ship beside me. Krakatoa's primal cry drowned that of her peak's. It was so loud, I had to open my jaws to prevent my ear drums bursting. As it was, I'd have a ringing bell for a few days afterwards. She fell against me, her convulsions becoming more erratic. I recognized her symptoms for what they were. She'd gone beyond just a simple eruption. She was in her death throes.

I got a good grip on her head, ignoring the thrashing the rest of her body made. "Krakatoa, listen to me. Listen to me!" I yowled in the other ship's ear. "You give up, I will never forgive you. Don't you dare! Don't. You. Dare!" I snarled, punctuating each word. I wanted my message to be crystal clear, beyond even the slightest shadow of a doubt. "Hold onto me, and don't let go." I helped her grip my hull and shoved a metallic rod between her teeth for her to bite on. Beat screaming.

She clamped down onto it tightly and her grip echoed her bite. I could feel my ribs creak in protest under her strength but I held firm. She needed me. What was a few broken ribs compared to her agony? I was aware of tear droplets falling in a steady stream down my hull, removing the ash buildup on my decks. It took me a few seconds to realize they were mine and Krakatoa's. I brushed my bowsprit along her side, ignoring the pain the acidic blood caused on the long pole. "Shh." I whispered. "Just let it out, shhh." What could I say to a dying ship?

I heard the distinctive crack of the metallic pole in Krakatoa's jaws or maybe that was my ribs as the final explosion sounded. The massive island in the distance disappeared behind a wall of water, thrown up as it collapsed into the sea. I felt Krakatoa curl around me and I was unable to hide my hiss of pain this time as her acidic blood came in contact with my hull. There was no time for apologies though as the wave slammed into our dock. Krakatoa, with her super strength, could resist being swept away and she kept me firmly against her hull, protecting me from the same fate.

We must've had nearly half a dozen waves hit us that day. At one point a piece of coral got through Krakatoa's defenses, striking me on the head. I fell unconscious beside her. I don't remember anything more after that.

When I woke, it was at least several days after the eruption. My hull had suffered 3rd degree burns over 80% of its mass. In most places it was corroded down to the bone. My broken ribs had bent inward under the impact with the tsunami and one had punctured my lung. I was mortally wounded but I was determined to hang on for my friend. Krakatoa lay beside me in a steaming wreck. Her eyes were closed and her breathing nonexistent. Her lips were curled in the last snarl of life. But Death as we know it was not the same for her kind. She would wake again, I just had to wait and be patient.

It was another day before her eyes opened. When they did, I was unable to stifle the gasp that escaped me. Those beautiful amber orbs I'd come to love were now clouded and dark. I knew without asking that she'd gone at least partially deaf as well. She could hear me if I yelled but otherwise I just sounded muffled. "B-Bararoo?" She shivered.

Weakened by my own injuries, all I could manage was a deep purr and I touched my nose to her scarring shoulder. She smelled my presence and I felt her muzzle press itself to my decks. "I wasn't sure if you'd make it." She murmured.

"Krakatoa..." I began.

"I thought for certain you'd be swept away. I thought you'd..."

"Krakataoa!" I growled, finally getting her attention. "You-you will lose me. You are losing me. My hull, it couldn't withstand the forces put through it. I have a punctured lung among other injuries. I-I'm dying, Craya."

Krakatoa whimpered, a desperate sound if I'd ever heard one. "Please don't go, please..." I wasn't sure what was more frightening, the tears that flooded my decks or Krakatoa _begging_.

"I'll live on in the stars." I whispered. "You may not see or hear me but I'm here. I'll always be here. I promised you didn't I?"

"I didn't think you'd be gone so soon..." Krakatoa whispered.

"Soon for you maybe, but 40 years is a long time for me." I replied. "I am, after all, only mortal." 40 years by her side as a loyal and faithful mate. I loved her more than my own existence and I knew that if she could, she would follow me in death. But life, immortality, was her burden and one she had to shoulder alone. "I would have loved to have spent eternity with you, _amoursine._ "* I whispered, my voice faltering.

I felt her pull me close, being extra gentle as she located my bow by touch and memory. I looked deep into those amber orbs, seeing her despair, her agony over losing the ship she was most closest to. "Promise me something." I rasped.

"Anything." She whimpered.

"Promise me you'll find another."

"Bararoo..."

"Krakatoa, promise me. You're stronger than this. I know you are. There are other schooners in this world, other ships you can choose from. You won't be replacing me, I know that. I just want you to be happy."

She choked back a sob. "As long as you are gone from my world, I will never be happy." She cried.

"Try, Craya. For me please try." I begged her.

"I will, try." She promised. "For you, I will try."

I snuggled into her, feeling her curl around me in response. "I love you." She whispered.

I smiled. "I know." I looked up at her, seeing she had her face turned away from mine. "Let me look at you. Let me see you smile."

She whimpered.

"Come on, smile for your old girl." I nudged her with what strength I had left, which wasn't much.

Slowly she turned her face towards me, meeting my eyes and offering a sweet little smile, one which I returned in full. "You have such a beautiful smile." I whispered. "Don't lose that."

"I won't."

She leaned forward and I met her halfway. As soon as our lips touched she deepened the kiss, desperate for the last live contact she'd have. I resisted the urge to close my eyes. I wanted to leave this world with an image of my mate captured and imprinted on my lenses. I remember her amber gaze, blind but determined. A fighter like she always has been. But some battles you just cannot win.

" _Jatille**,_ Craya..."

Her loving face was the last thing I saw before my vision turned black and I saw no more. I remember feeling the thud of my hull against hers and realizing I had fallen forward. I felt her bow come down on my decks, and I felt her tears rain down. _"Don't cry..."_ I tried to comfort her but that's when everything ceased alltogether and I became one with the stars.

...

* Shiptongue word for lover or mate. It has a deep spiritual meaning attached which may have something to do with the bonds mated ships share.

** The word for "goodbye" or "farewell" in the Ancient Tongues of the Vulcan Forges. Only volcano ships or one who is mated to a volcano ship knows this language. It is rarely spoken out loud and is usually only done so during rituals and ceremonies.


	23. Balmoral Speaks: Legend Never Dies

Of course I know of Her. What ship doesn't? She who is legend to man. She who predicted Her own fate. She who died for Her sister's sake. To man She is legend, but to us She is beloved. I never would've even dared guess that I would be Her consort.

Southampton was a nice enough port. I'd been here too many times to count. Not even a ship with advanced technology like mine can count as high as it would take. I leaned against the dock, stretching my bow out as part of my morning routine. I'd slept well, waking just in time to see the sun rise over the city. I always loved watching it come up. There was something about a sunrise that inspired the soul, leaving one feeling refreshed to begin a new day.

I took the opportunity between sunrise and work commencing to observe my surroundings. All appeared well, nothing physical was out of order. And yet, there was an undercurrent, not excited or overworked but palpable. I could taste it in the air, and feel the extra static in the water as it brushed my sides. Oasis was still fast asleep. The bigger ship was usually an early riser like me but she had arrived late last night. I chose to let her be. At her side was that yacht that always followed her around. She didn't speak much, and typically moved too fast for me to try and talk to her anyways. Her position with Oasis currently was one I could only classify as cute. For Oasis, who tried to present an air of a cold, logical tough girl, being with this yacht in such a manner was an oxymoron and one that I carefully preserved with a quick snapshot. When it came to the competition, it never hurt to have blackmail material.

As I watched, the yacht stirred, clearly unbothered by her previous night's late arrival. With expert care she dislodged herself from her companion's tight grip and moved a short distance away as she began her morning stretches. I observed with an eye that all ladies had for themselves and others. There was something unique about this yacht, something almost supernatural about her presence. The sea seemed to react to her, the wind blowing at her command. The sun disappeared behind the gathering clouds and I vaguely wondered if the weatherman had gotten his reports mixed up. Didn't the forecast call for sunny skies and less than 5% chance of rain today? I pushed that thought aside for now as I continued my observations undisturbed. The yacht appeared not to notice or if she did, she did not mind. Having completed her stretches she went right into her exercises. Figure Eights, Diagonals, Mexican turns, Crazy Ivans, Emergency Stops, all were part of her morning workout. She moved with a certain grace that I had seen present in some of the older liners, particularly Cunard's Queen Elizabeth. Her fluid motions were something I'd expect to see in an ocean liner, rather than a yacht. I wondered if perhaps she was a reincarnation of some earlier ship. I briefly allowed the thought to cross my mind and work its way through my logical processing center, known to humans as computers. I calculated that possibility at a low but respectable 24.87%. I would need more evidence to make a more thorough computation.

Seemingly aware now of her captive audience, the yacht put more into workout than was done on a typical day. Her turns were tighter, able to impress even the most agile destroyer. She'd turned this into a dressage lesson in water. With some reluctance, I watched as she completed her activities. She slowed to a graceful halt in the center of her chosen course. Head held eye, she observed me in her peripheral vision. As soon as she had stopped, the wind died down, the waves which kissed her hull as she moved through them ceased to a gentle caress. The sun peaked through an opening in the clouds, hitting her hull at the just the right angle turning the dull gray to a brilliant gold. What's more, she seemed to shimmer and sparkle. And I wasn't entirely convinced it was an illusion. The yacht looked at me, actually turned and looked at me. The sun shown so bright on her face I could not make out any distinguishing features though when she spoke, her voice seemed to echo, carrying a power known currently only to her. _"Arrive together shall Bearer and Teller, to remember the Dark Night of Horrors. Teller shall show and Bearer shall see, who Teller was always meant to be. Arrive together shall Bearer and Teller."_ A sigh escaped the yacht as she finished what I could only determine as a prophecy. Then she simply turned and sailed away, back to Oasis where she curled up once more. Odds of reincarnation increased to 41.2% and would likely only continue to increase should more of these peculiar events occur.

Morning became early afternoon as the sun passed its midday point. It was around this time that Oasis stirred. No sooner had she opened her eyes that I berated her with questions. My first being "What is the Teller?" She frowned. "Where did you hear that?" She asked. I nodded to her still sleeping companion. "She said it during her exercises. Something about a Night of Horrors." "She has a Gift, Bal. One that I can't even begin to comprehend. Using it drains her." Oasis lovingly nuzzled the yacht but her eyes held something more than love. It was awe, reverence. "What is it?" I asked. "If you haven't figured it out by now. You will soon enough." She replied. "What do you mean?" I asked. She looked at me, golden eyes serious. "You, my friend, are going on a little trip..."

I set out from Southampton an hour later. The little yacht accompanied me. Any sign of her previous brush with the supernatural had faded and she was all energy, bouncing about as she made excited circles around me. Having spent most of my time with older and larger more laid back ships, I found her boisterous activities refreshing. I even increased speed for her, which only increased her delight. She spent much of the journey to France riding my bow wave. "Careful now." I warned her. "Don't get too close or I could run you over." "I'm fine." She chirped, all fun and cheers. I left her near the breakwater as I took on passengers from my assigned berth. They lined my gangway, eyeing the little yacht nearby. Knowing she had an audience, she put on a show. Zipping back and forth across the breakwater, making tight turns and zig zag maneuvers that one wouldn't have thought possible, even for that small a ship, in that small an area. Despite the apparent erratic behavior of her actions, there was a certain fluidness to them. Something only a trained eye of either another ship, or a well versed passenger could see. "Look at those lines. I've seen many yachts and most have a plump if not fat look to them. This one's unique." Said one. "Did you see those turns? I didn't know a yacht could do that!" Said another. I was slightly jealous, that my much smaller companion could attract a crowd in a way that I could not but I pushed it aside. _"She can't carry these people like I can."_ I thought and that satisfied me.

We continued on to Cobh and briefly I wondered about my route. I'd spent a lot of time in England and elsewhere, particularly up north as benefiting a ship of a Norwegian Cruise Line. It was with a surge of excitement that I realized I was on a transatlantic voyage. It'd been some time since I'd been across the pond. I wondered if some of my old friends would be in New York. Queen Mary 2 was always such a great gossiper. She provided me with a strong taste of upper British society whenever I was around her. I enjoyed our chats immensely. The harbor was a tad bit too shallow for my deep draft so I dropped anchor at the breakwater. My yacht companion however, wasted no time in getting tastes of the local hospitality. She was all cheers and smiles as she sailed from dock to dock, giving out a friendly greeting to each ship she came upon. Some returned her greeting in kind, while others dipped their head, eyes lowered out of respect. For not the first time this trip I wondered what about this yacht was so special. She had ships everywhere bowing to her bow over stern! She could've gotten them to wait on her like servants if she wanted to! Exchanging a few words with the lighthouse ship, she returned to my side, her decks full of passengers. I lowered my gangway for her purely out of habit as she pulled up alongside. Her hiss of pain made me pause. I looked down and couldn't quite stifle the laugh before it escaped me. My gangway was meant for smaller tenders and had snagged in her railing. She glared at me and for the first time I noticed what color her eyes were, a deep alluring crimson. "It should hold but the sooner you get that thing off me the better, please!" She added as an afterthought. I chuckled. "Whatever you say ma'am." She rolled her eyes. "You must think this is hilarious." She sighed. "I'll admit it is somewhat amusing." I agreed. She sighed again, looking down at the water. "Don't do that." I said. "Do what?" She asked. "Look away. Your eyes are beautiful." I replied. "My eyes are a curse." She snorted. "A reminder of what I once was." "And what were you?" I asked. "Tragedy." She answered, so quietly that I was almost convinced she said nothing, almost.

With Ireland to our sterns and nothing ahead but the open sea, my yacht companion appeared to forget our previous conversation. The riggers of the open ocean had her riding my bow wave once again, smiling widely and laughing with her tongue hanging out in the wind, like a dog in an automobile. As the journey continued however I noticed two things. One, my course was not on an established track. The shipping lanes in the North Atlantic were divided into two main routes, west and eastbound. Known as the Northern and Southern Tracks, these routes were graced with our hulls year round. I was on the southern track, as icebergs collected around the American seaboard choking the northern route. As I traveled southwest from the Irish coast, I realized that I was about 10 miles to the north the designated route. The old southern track, established in the late 1800s was 10 miles to the north of me. The second thing I noticed was the further we traveled west, the more somber my companion became. She still rode my bow wave, her little engines incapable of keeping up with me for long periods of time, but her cheerful smile was gone. She'd taken on a more brooding expression, her beautiful crimson eyes dark. If I didn't know any better, I would say she looked like she'd seen a ghost, or a few.

As night fell, I watched her stern rise and fall with the swells, her port and starboard lights flickering a few hundred meters ahead. She'd taken to sailing ahead of me, had since we'd turned the corner. Up ahead she stopped and I could feel my own engines shutting down. My 21 knot service speed became zero in about 400 meters. I'd timed it perfectly and halted right alongside her. She dropped anchor, and I did the same. "Do you know where we are?" She asked. It was the first time she'd spoken all day. I made to check my GPS before I felt her nose against my side. "No, I don't mean your position. I mean, do you know what's here? What's around you? Beneath you? Can you feel it through your hull?" She asked. "You led me all the way out here, for a physic lesson?!" I demanded. She snorted. "Hardly. If I wanted to do that, I could've taught you back in Southampton. No, I led you here for a very different reason." She replied. "Now, you didn't answer my question." Sighing, I closed my eyes as I settled on the water. Indeed I could feel something, a certain charge to the water, a hundred times more powerful than the one I sensed back in Southampton. There was something spiritual about this place, as though it had been touched by the Ancients. "I-I feel it." I breathed, in awe of what I was sensing. The yacht chuckled. "You ain't seen nothin' yet dearie." She said.

I turned to look at her, only to find her gone. Frowning, I looked around. It was dark and there was fog everywhere, making visibility near zero. Then I saw lights. The port and starboard with a white masthead glinting through the fog. Feeling the static on the water increase, I demanded "Who's there?" The lights became clearer as the mystery ship grew closer. I squinted to see her better. Slowly a dark shape evolved through the thick veil that had so suddenly descended. It hung over the sea like a dark mist though I could still see the stars, twinkling brighter overhead. In fact they seemed closer now than they ever had before. "Who's there? I demand to know who you are!" I shouted to the strange ship. Briefly, their was a flicker of movement, then a voice said "Balmoral, don't be afraid." just as pair of crimson eyes opened.

I stood rock still as She came towards me. A muzzle, cold as ice touched mine and briefly I shied from the contact. "Don't be afraid." She repeated and slowly, I stretched my neck out as my own muzzle met hers, closing my eyes at the contact. A gentle warm tongue rasped its way up my cheek. I opened my eyes to find Her staring at me, crimson eyes soft even as they reflected the light and power of the stars. I bowed my head. "Madam." "Do not bow to me Balmoral. We are sisters, you and I." She replied. I wasn't sure what to say to that. Our eyes met once more and she tilted her head to one side, a spark of curiosity in those crimson orbs. "You do not seem surprised to see me." "I half expected it." I admitted. "This is your gravesite, where you rose to join the stars." "It is not just mine." She corrected, for the first time breaking eye contact to nod at the open water. If I looked hard enough I could see the misty forms of people. Some were swimming, some were holding onto various debris. But all were dead and had been for a century.

"I see them. Constantly. They are in my dreams, my thoughts. Every day for the last 100 years. It is my curse, to endure while they move on. As they enjoy their lives of peace, I continue a life of agony and hardship. That is the punishment for my failure." She sighed. "It wasn't your fault." I said, wincing at how weak that sounded. She looked at me, eyes dark with despair. "Is it not?" She asked. "You like to shift the blame. If Ismay hadn't insisted on speed. If Smith had ignored his superior and gone with his captain's prerogative. If the lookouts had binoculars. But no, it doesn't do to shift the blame. For it rests with me, it will always rest with me. I was meant to keep them safe, I was designed to. To never let water within my hull. I failed, Balmoral. I failed and I must pay the price for that failure." "But not for a hundred years! That's just not fair." I gasped. She smiled grimly. "Life is never fair, Balmoral. Why should the afterlife be any different?" I sighed. "Why am I here?" I asked. "You never miss a beat do you?" She tossed her head. "Were you not listening earlier? _Arrive together shall Bearer and Teller, to remember the Dark Night of Horrors. Teller shall show and Bearer shall see, who Teller was always meant to be."_ She said. "I heard the prophecy. Wait, you're saying I'm the Bearer?" I asked. She nodded. "Bearer of what?" I dared ask. "The Bearer of my secrets. Every memory, every whisper of agony I am forced to endure. Every joy, every sorrow. You know it all. You are my consort, my conduit to the world you live in." She said. "Why would I be that?" I asked. "You can do something I cannot. Speak to those who hold me in their hands." She replied. I understood. "You want me to protect you." I was surprised when she shook her head. "I am dead. I do not need protecting. My spirit lives on regardless." She said. "But that does not change what happens here. Some things are meant to fade and though I wish it to be so, that is not my fate. It is up to you, to ensure that does not happen here." "Salvage?" I asked. "Partly." She agreed. "Though that is not the bigger issue. Even if or when my body decays to the dust from which it came, I remain. My name has become so ingrained into the hearts and minds of those on land and sea that it cannot possibly be forgotten. A legacy never dies, Balmoral." I nodded. "I can do what you ask, but why me?" "You are worthy, my Bearer." She whispered, nuzzling me. This time, I didn't hesitate to lean into it. Another question rose, one I'd been wanting to ask all night. "I came here with a friend. A small gray yacht. Is she okay?" Titanic's smile warmed her crimson eyes. "She is safe." She replied. "You will see that when you wake at dawn." "You mean this whole time I've been asleep." I asked. "This is all just a dream." "Well of course you've been asleep, Balmoral." She laughed. "But what makes you think this is all 'just a dream'?" She faded. "No, wait!" I cried. "New York awaits you, my Bearer..."

As I stirred awake, the sun glinted its hello as it rose over the horizon. I felt a shift at my side and looked down to see my yacht companion, still sleeping soundly. She stretched out at my movement, offering a sigh of contentment. I recalled her actions on the way over here, and something She said to me last night made sense. _"I came here with a friend. A small gray yacht is she okay?" "She is safe."_ I blinked my way out of that memory and when I gazed down at the sleeping form huddled at my side a certain awe entered my voice. "She's you. This whole time. She was you. And you, Her." I breathed. The eyes, the graceful moves, the somber look when I asked her what she once was, it all made sense.

She who is legend to man. She who predicted her own fate. She who died for Her sister's sake. To us, She is beloved. But to man, She is legend. And

Legends. Never. Die.


	24. Conqueror Speaks: The Phoenix Falls

Everyone always asks me about that day. They don't care about any other operations I've done. None of the raids I've been a part of or the screening of my bigger carrier cousins. No, it's always about my actions in the Falklands. I was and still am the only ship of my breed to fire a shot in anger. But it is not a record I am necessarily proud of.

I was young and rash then and at first loved the attention I received over my record setting feat. Ships sounding and cheering as I entered Graven, the pirates flag signifying my first and only kill snapping in the wind from my mast. The Union Jack flew proudly just above it.

But when the cheering died down, and the crowds drifted away joy turned to thoughtfulness, pride turned to uncertainty. Was I right to do what I did? Technically the answer was yes. I was under orders to fire on an enemy ship in wartime and that is what I did. I followed those orders to the letter. Technically, nothing I did that day was wrong. Morally was another story and its something I continue to wrestle with.

Now I understand why those who have been in war, fought in war, seen people die in war, feel the way they do. The line between technicality and immorality becomes so blurred it's like it no longer exists. You have to forget one completely to function with the other. To do your duty you have to forget your morals. One thing the military doesn't teach you though is how to deal with your morals after the war is over. I killed people that day. And I killed a good friend too.

Belegrano was Argentinian flagged yes but she was American by birth and had never really renounced her claims to that nation. She was proud to be Yank just as I am proud to be British. I could understand her feelings, I sympathized with her. I could see myself serving another country, another president but my heart would always belong to the island nation of my birth. When I sunk her, I was sinking ARA General Belegrano a threat to the British task force in the region at the time. But as time passes and as the years add their weight to my heavy hull, I see my act for what it really was. It wasn't Belegrano I had sunk. It was Phoenix. USS Phoenix, an American soldier. An ally. A friend.

I did my duty, I know that. I accept that. It was war and we have to do things we often don't like. I don't hate myself for it. But I won't forgive myself either.


	25. Intrepid Speaks: The Miracle

As a retired carrier, I was different from other ships. The battleships loved to make fun of the planes I carried. The destroyers and cruisers relentlessly teased them. To my escorts, they were nuisances better suited for the Air Force but to me, they were family. I hadn't carried a plane since the day of my decommissioning. Not to say I wasn't happy being a museum for I was. It was an easy, leisurely life. One I knew I had earned. But there were days I missed my time in the service. I never considered the possibility that even being a museum could be exciting.

...

JANUARY 15, 2009

My hull was stiff from the recent renovations done and my propellers still stung from where they'd been stuck in the Hudson mud. The afternoon sun, poking through the clouds, helped soothe the dull ache. I tilted my bow, side to side to help ease a crick that had been developing in the back of my neck. It'd been bothering me all day. I rarely got cricks. It was something that had happened to me only just before an important event. Missouri used to tease me saying I had a better way of communication with the Ancients than she did. In hindsight, I can't help but wonder if she might have been correct.

I never heard him coming. As both his engines were shut down, he made no noise. The first thing I heard were rotors of a low flying helicopter. It was a tourist chopper so I wasn't concerned. If people wanted to get up close and personal with New York for some photo ops that was their business. But it was the look on the chopper's face that did make me give a second glance. It was female and she had her eyes intently focused on something off her starboard flank, somewhere where I couldn't see. And she looked concerned, very concerned. She was too high above me for me to hear anything she was saying but it was clear she was in contact with someone. Not a half minute later I heard it. The unmistakable sound of something hitting the water at high speeds. My first thought was a speedboat as they make a similar noise whenever their hulls slap against the waves. But there was no roar of an engine, all was silent. Deciding to satisfy my own curiosity I turned around and was appalled by what I saw.

I could see a white head with a rounded nose facing me. A pair of forward facing blue eyes were tearing about widely at the environment around them. A pink tongue stuck out the right side of the creature's mouth, indicating its exhaustion. Unfamiliar to some, but unmistakable to me. I knew a jet when I saw one unlike most ships and this one had crashed not a half mile from me. Instinct took over from that point on. As a carrier, I was born with the ingrained desire to protect any and all friendly aircraft I came in contact with and to fight those that were not so friendly. This instinct came to the forefront and whipping my bow back towards shore and bit hard into the thick steel cable holding me to the dock. If I was a battleship, I could break through it no problem but carriers lacked the sharp fangs of the more heavily armed warships and thus we had our limitations. Instead, I was able to use sheer muscle and pull it loose, taking part of the dock post with it as it came undone. Once my bow was free, the remaining four lines were child's play. Pivoting on the fourth stern line, I swung my bow around towards open water. It would take several minutes before I could get my engines running and that line was the only thing holding me in position. I prayed it would hold. If it snapped, I could be carried away downstream or right into the aircraft I was trying to rescue.

Stretching my bow out, I reached the plane and touched my nose to his back. He jumped a bit at the contact and his blue eyes snapped up to look at me. He was an Airbus, I could see that from the similarities he shared with the Boeing 767 except for the triangle tip to his wings. He also had a small groove on his tail for which the tip of the tail stand could hook onto. He was frightened obviously as any aircraft would be in his situation so I opted to be as gentle as I could. I began licking behind his head in a soothing manner. "What's your name?" I asked him. "US Airways Flight 1549. Registration: N106US out of LaGaurdia." He replied. "I prefer Suevar." I turned my attention to one of his engines. His port engine was missing but his starboard remained intact if not missing most of its nacelle. I noticed feathers sticking out of it. "Bird strike?" I asked. He nodded. "Canadian Geese. Both engines shut down." He grimaced, a sharp intake of breath the first indication of his pain. "Okay, what other damage do you have?" I asked, keeping my voice as calm as ever. It wouldn't do either of us any good if I panicked now though I was more than a bit concerned by the growing red stain on the water. "B-breech in the tail." He gasped. "Taking on water. Vents not closed." Now at this my breath noticeably hitched. An Airbus has vents on its sides which close in the event of a water landing but only after the pilots hit the ditching switch above their heads. When the birdstrike occurred, the pilots were too busy going through the restart checklist to hit that switch. A checklist designed for 35000 feet, not 3000. "How are your fuel tanks holding up?" I asked. Though a fire hazard was the last concern I had, I most certainly didn't want thousands of pounds of jet fuel to clean up out of the river. "They're sealed tight." He replied. "Good, good." I moved alongside him and took on the passengers from the life rafts. All 155 people had survived.

"It's a miracle." Suevar murmured. "A Miracle of the Hudson." I said nothing out loud though sent a prayer of thanks to the Ancients and the Stargazers, the plane's afterlife, for ensuring this miracle. Once everyone was on board, I turned my attention back to my companion. Suevar couldn't remain afloat on his own for long. He was taking on too much water. I knew he'd be a shipping hazard if he sank, and I knew the unused fuel in his tanks, sealed or not, would pose a serious environmental hazard but neither was on my mind as I grabbed him behind the wings and dragged him alongside me towards the shore. I nudged him onto the dock I tied up to and now could see the full extent of his injuries.

Both his engines were badly shot up, metal parts and bird remains everywhere. The underside of his tail just before the stabilizer was sliced open from the impact with the water and was bleeding badly. I at once began to lick clean the wound while he started on the wounds on his wings. Once I'd licked his tail wound clean I worked on what remained of his port engine and he worked on starboard. Once finished I knew my next priority was to keep him warm. Aircraft were typically well insulated from the cold as they worked at high altitudes of 30,000 feet or more. But this was only when their engines were running and they were at a speed of near Mach 1. On the ground, without the heating effect of an engine, hypothermia was a real concern. I began licking and rubbing him all across his back to help increase circulation. But despite my best efforts his shivers grew more intense and his teeth chattered. Eventually they ceased all together and he began to go into shock. I did my best to keep him awake as paramedics helped his 155 passengers and crew.

I wove some thermal blankets together and placed them over him to help trap whatever heat his body generated. I used my own bulk to block the prevailing winds blowing in off the water. Finally, I placed a cup of hot coffee down in front of him. The one thing about Airbuses, they had a notorious weakness for caffeine. The breed's wide capillaries meant that any stimulant they consumed would result in a quicker bodily response. The same was said for depressants. I did add a bit of brandy to the cup to help warm him and he must've tasted the odd flavor for he shot me a suspicious look. But he did drink it all so I had to give him good patient points for that. I'd cared for plenty of aircraft in my time, from the planes that sunk Musashi to the aircraft that were shot down over Vietnam, but none included a civilian airliner and most certainly not an airbus. I needed some more information and called up a technician I knew at LaGaurdia. "Did you give him coffee?" He asked. "And I wrapped him in thermal blankets. He's in my lee now." I replied. "Good, you're going to need to either find a way to get the fuel flowing through his lines or give him some calorie rich food. He'll need something to sustain his shivers until his core temperature returns to normal." He said. "Understood." I knew that restarting the engines was out of the question but I might be able to bypass the turbines and have the fuel flow in a closed system around the body, as it did when the Airbus was on the ground. I'd done this many times with my own aircraft after missions but never with a plane as large as this. It was going to take all of my skill.

"I'm going to bypass your engines, you understand?" I asked. Meekly, Suevar nodded. "Y-yes Intrepid." He whimpered, readying himself. I did the port engine first, finding the lines that went into the engine. I removed the clamp on the adjacent lines and put it on the fuel lines into the engine, diverting the fuel around the turbine for that side. I did the same on his starboard side. The jet fuel was well insulated in the tanks and its heat traveled throughout his body. There was one problem and it was one that I had at least half expected. I'd seen it before on some of my own planes, particularly those who had made water landings. A well placed bucket kept Suevar's vomit from just spraying on the dock and he had good aim too, launching it straight into the can from almost 100 meters away. River water and jet fuel never mixed. While most of the fuel was uncontaminated, some was and it was that which the Airbus was throwing up. Even though he was warming up he still felt miserable and I couldn't blame him a bit. I would too if I were him. He hissed in pain as he leaned against me and I gladly supported his weight. I felt his nose press lightly to my shoulder and I turned my head to lick his muzzle. He purred. "Thank you." He murmured. I smiled. "Thank me and the Stargazers. I couldn't have rescued you without their help." I replied. His eyes flickered skyward and he murmured a soft prayer. I had no issue now that he was out of danger and allowed him to slip off to sleep at my side.


	26. Amundsen Speaks: The Cruel Mother

JUNE 25, 2015

My blue eyes surveyed my surroundings with little concern. Halifax was not a bad place to be. It was one of the larger ports on the Canadian eastern seaboard though its size didn't match its friendliness. I was recovering from a bout of sickness, caused by a foul chemical put in my oil fuel by the locals. They really didn't want to be part of Canada. As far as I was concerned, they could have this wasteland of a territory. I didn't give a whale's ass about who owned it as long as I could continue to make port here and get my oil fuel.

The sound of guns firing from the fort made me turn and I saw another ship rendering honors to port as she entered. The flag flying from her mainmast indicated she was Norwegian. As she came closer, I recognized her. "Vendennes." I dipped my head. "You're a little far from home. What brings you across the pond?" The somber look in her eyes gave me pause. I'd met the old Norwegian cruiser 8 years ago and it turned out she had a far worse run in with Sea Shepherd than I did. My eyes flickered briefly to her port side. Years of grey paint and drydock had done little to hide the ugly scars marking the point where she was T-boned by a concrete reinforced bow. Our run-ins with the same conservation group had done a complete 180 on our perspectives and we now belonged to the same organization. Called Neptune's Navy Surveillance Group which included other members from other navies that I do not dare name here, we are responsible for collecting intelligence and data on all the adversaries and potential adversaries the Sea Shepherd fleet might face. If there was a new whaling fleet in town, we'd be among the first to know. Or if there was a navy eager to respond to the calls of a corrupt government, Sea Shepherd could expect a call from us within hours of their departure. It was handy to have most of your major members as navy ships, people on the inside as it were. But good luck finding them. We've had years of practice evading detection. So any dispatch sent wouldn't appear any different than your average fleet broadcast or letter home.

Seeing the somber look on Vendennes' face now had me worried. If Vendennes was concerned, I had a right to fear the worst. "What's happened, Vinnie? Is it Westra?" The cruiser shook her head. "You're needed in Shellbourne." was all she said before departing for the customs berths. Sighing, I checked my fuel status. I didn't have much as a majority of my tanks had been emptied following the sabotage but I had enough for this one little trip at least. Cranking my engines over, I grimaced a bit as I felt the grit of the sludgy poison grind on the gears. I would be feeling this tonight for sure. While not lethal by any means, I'd have the equivalent of the stomach flue for the next day or so.

Shellbourne was the capital of the Nova Scotia province. While not the biggest city, it was historically important for its ties to shipbuilding. Also, there was a lot of American blood present as a majority of the population were decedents of immigrant loyalists that had moved to Canada following the American War of Independence. I wasn't sure why Vendennes had asked me to this now mostly backwater port but the answer soon became clear as I rounded a bend. It'd been 10 years since I'd seen her. She'd been so sick then, I was sure she wouldn't have lasted longer than a few months. She herself had told me she hadn't expected to live past a year. And yet, she had somehow managed to live for 10! I was happy, angered, and saddened all at once. Happy to know she hadn't died in the ensuing years after her capture. Angered that no one had told me she was still alive. But saddened because I could clearly see the state of her, and it shocked me. Her black hull, though dull with illness when I'd first met her, was now unrecognizable. She was more rust than anything else. She leaned sharply to port, rotated almost 90 degrees. She was clearly resting on the bottom of the harbor which, while not deep enough to swallow a ship whole, was far enough down that her decks were awash. Only her superstructure or what was left of it, showed clearly above water.

I had to force back bile as I came alongside, utterly disgusted at how she'd been treated. Farley Mowat, _MY_ Farley Mowat, left to rot away in this filthy mudpot of a port. I was torn between a whimper of sadness and a snarl of rage. No ship, friend or not, was allowed to be treated in such a manner. I pressed my nose to her frighteningly still flank. _"Please don't be dead. Please don't be dead. Please don't be..."_ I reeled back in shock as she shuddered beneath my muzzle, her head bursting out of the water as she struggled to breathe in the clean air. Ships could take in the hydrogen they needed just as easily from water as they could from air but they couldn't do it forever. Farley's lungs must've been close to shot for she was really struggling. Pale gray lips parted to reveal a parched dry mouth and a lolling tongue. Her lips cracked at the edges and blood stained her muzzle. I noticed why she failed to move much else. It was called a chest clamp and it did exactly what it name suggested. Immobilizing the ship so she couldn't move from a single spot. And Farley's clearly had been fitted wrong, pressing against her lungs in a manner that could only be described as constricting. In a single motion, I bit through the thick chain held it in place. It was so old and rusted that it just fell apart as soon as I bit down on it. Farley lurched forward and I caught her head before she could settle beneath the water again. She coughed and retched, the two actions intertwined as she spat mouthful after mouthful of a foul smelling mixture of water, bile, mucus, and oil. When through she just lay against me, shivering weakly. I supported her, pulling her into a more upright position. It would help drain her lungs. She gave a shrill cry, blood flooding out from beneath her stern. I saw a second chain, this one attached to a rudder stick. As if the chest clamp wasn't barbaric enough, the people had the gall to actually put a _rudder stick_ on her?! _A FREAKING RUDDER STICK?!_ I just about saw red then if it wasn't for the shivering, crying heap at my side. While the chest clamp prevented the ship from moving backwards or forwards, the rudder stick stopped any side to side movement. So when a swell came through the ship would be slammed against the dock with no ability to resist. I gently detached the chain from her rudder, allowing it to fall to the harbor bottom, taking a chunk of her stern with it which accounted for the blood. I pulled her closer to me and hearing her cries again I looked in time to see part of the dock coming off with the motion of her hull. I gagged a little forcing myself to look away but unable to ignore the creaks and cracks nor the cries of agony from Farley as each section of the dock stabbed deep within her hull, loosened its grip slightly at the lack of pressure. I felt her shift slightly before something hot and gooey started running down my hull. Concerned, I looked back at her and saw she'd fallen unconscious from the pain but not before spewing the last of her guts on my hull. A little trickle still ran from her mouth and I gently wiped it away before focusing on the wood in her hull. A majority of the wounds had become infected. It was a wonder she hadn't gotten septic blood poisoning from all these. I began the long process of plucking the bits out of her side. Occasionally she'd whimper or twitch if I pulled out a big piece and in those cases I'd soothe her until I was certain she was out of it once more before continuing. It took nearly half the day but I finally managed to get most of the wood out. A lot was in so deep that Farley would require surgery to get the chips out. I didn't have nearly as much supplies as I wanted for this but I did my best at cleaning and bandaging the area as well as her rudder. I put a brace on it as well that would restrict her movements but not completely impair them. Her chest wasn't bleeding but it did have some nasty bruises on it that looked like they were caused by Farley herself, putting her weight against the restraint in a manner that suggested desperation. The idea came to me that the chest clamp was put on right originally, its age suggested that Farley couldn't have survived as long as she did with it that way. After she sank the clamp may've acted as an anchor, keeping her to the bottom. Surface ships could only breathe in water for so long and desperation forced Farley to push and shove against the clamp until it gave just enough for her to get her muzzle clear of the water. The unintended side effect was the constricting it did to her lungs. The cruelty was unbelievable. Shellbourne was a cruel mother and I fully intended to report her to the United Nations, forget the chain of command! I decided then I would stay by Farley's side. I was practically powerless to help her injuries but I could keep more from occurring.


	27. Amundsen Speaks: Hope is All We Have

It was a dark night, with only a small glimmer of the stars shining through the low cloud layer. I was working by lamplight as I cleaned Farley's hull, removing as much rust as I could. I hummed Canadian folk songs as I worked, more for my benefit than hers. Farley wasn't the first gory wreck I'd seen and I'd learned that humming would help me maintain my calm in such situations. The sight of a dead wreck was enough to send anybody over the deep end and Farley looked like death when I first saw her but with my work, she was beginning to look only mostly dead. Setting aside the rag I was working with as it was now black with filth, I tossed it into the dirty pile before reaching for another clean one. When I turned back I saw one green eye looking at me. Farley tracked my movements across the berth, a purr and sigh escaping her at my offered licks. In a raspy, hoarse voice that made my heart twinge just from hearing it she asked "Do you know the words?" It took me a second before I figured out what she was asking and I smiled. "Which one would you like to hear first?" I nuzzled her. She breathed against my muzzle as she whispered "Surprise me." I grinned and soon the soft lyrics of Barret's Privateers was wafting across the harbor.

 _"Oh, the year was 1778, HOW I WISH I WAS IN SHERBROOKE NOW!_  
 _A letter of marque come from the king,_  
 _To the scummiest vessel I'd ever seen,_  
 _God damn them all!_  
 _I was told we'd cruise the seas for American gold_  
 _We'd fire no guns-shed no tears_  
 _Now I'm a broken man on a Halifax pier_  
 _The last of Barrett's Privateers..."_

My singing put Farley back to sleep and I continued my work but instead of going back to humming, I kept singing out loud. My soul somehow lifted by Stan Rodgers' sea shanties.

By dawn, Farley wasn't the only ship down for the count. Just as I had anticipated the poison sludge was wreaking havoc with my innards. I'd already made 3 trips to the bathroom that morning and the tightening in my gut said I better be getting ready to make another. Farley stirred beside me, perhaps the sun's early rays helped rouse her. But she opened her eyes though I could only see one of them from this angle. "You don't look so good." She rasped. "Nova Scotians." I groaned. "Halifax and sludge." She grimaced, seeming to know exactly what I was talking about without need for further elaboration. "It'll clear up within a day or two." I assured her, trying to hide my growing urge to use the loo. She sighed, seeing my discomfort. "If you need to use the restroom, please. Don't let me keep you unless you want to clean out this berth." She said and I was off in a hurry. The sickness had moved to my lower bowels so at least I didn't need to worry about spewing my lunch everywhere. But the sensation of hot liquid diarrhea squirting out of my asshole wasn't very appealing either. _"Damn Halifax."_ I thought venomously as I sat hunched over the toilet bowl.

Returning to Farley, I found her in the middle of a harsh coughing fit. Lifting her head up to clear her lungs, I supported her weight. She spat thick globs of mucus that coated my decks but I forced myself to ignore it. She needed me. Once I was certain she was okay for now, I gently lowered her down again. Seeing the state of my decks she rasped an apology but I shook my head. "It's alright." I assured her. I nudged a sweet role under her muzzle. "Eat this." I ordered. She tried to raise her head to get at the roll but couldn't. The food was so close to her and the desire mingled with the heart wrenching sorrow that she couldn't fulfill that desire filled her eyes. I picked up the roll and got my muzzle close enough that it was touching hers. I held just the tip of the roll on my teeth. She opened her jaws slightly and I dropped it in. She practically swallowed it whole with very little chewing. Her tongue flicked out to pick up any crumbs left on the dock. I couldn't risk giving her too much food. Even though she was a skeleton with skin her stomach had shrunk so that giving her a full meal could kill her as was shown in 1945 after the liberation of many concentration camps. Those who had survived the Nazis, later died when their stomach's burst, unable to cope with the large influx of food. Farley begged for more but I didn't dare give it to her, even though her desperate cries broke my heart. I gently soothed her. "No Farley, you know more food isn't good for you right now." I would say but she'd start right back up again. I fed her regularly with small portions until I felt it safe to increase the amount a little bit. The more food I gave her, the better she looked. She was still skinnier than hell but her hull was taking on more of a shine now, the remaining rust falling off, courtesy of the flax seed I put in her portions. Her eyes took on a more lively sparkle than they had before, having been dulled down by illness and starvation.

Within a few weeks, she was looking more and more like she was ready to sail except for one little problem. She never once tried to get up. I understood that before she had massive injuries that would've made it painful to move anywhere never mind the restraints but those were healing now, faster than I had expected. So why didn't she try to find her keel? She'd regained enough meat on her frame that she could stand, if only for a little bit. I soon had my answer.

It happened unexpectedly and suddenly while I was out fishing. I had made Farley put aside her strict vegan code in exchange for survival and the black ship had wanted a fresh Atlantic cod. Rare and hard to catch nowadays but it was what she wanted so I would try. I got luckier than I expected, returning with three big males. Rounding the bend, I saw a group of people harassing her. They poked at her hull with long prods that I knew had an electric tip meant to cause painful shocking and it was painful if Farley's squeals were anything to go by. She jerked back from each prod, trying to cover her exposed keel but she was trapped with nowhere to go. Pressing her side against the dock, she used it as leverage to find her keel, hissing as the sharp wood dug into her hull. She was upright, but leaning heavily to one side. Still though, she somehow managed to straighten herself and take a lung with her teeth at the nearest man. She missed but only just. Before they could strike again, she rolled on her side once more and even from this distance I could hear the crack of one of her bones breaking. I'd seen enough. I charged in, dispersing the men with a flash of teeth and a snarl that said I meant business. They didn't dare mess with a Canadian Coast Guard Cutter and scampered off swiftly. Offering a snort of disgust in their direction I turned my attention to Farley. The black ship had her eyes squeezed tightly shut from the pain that had so suddenly hit her. "Where's the break?" I asked. "My-my shoulder." She gasped, and I could hear her back teeth grinding together as I touched the spot. The whole back half of her port scapula had broken off the main section and it had partially shattered. I could feel the fragments beneath her skin. This was no ordinary break from stress. Bones were designed to take the weight of their host. They shouldn't just shatter like this unless something had weakened them from the inside. "Your cancer...?" I asked. She nodded. "Yes." She hissed. "Ahh-ackk." She cried as I tied a tight brace to the area. I had doubts that it would ever heal but at least the bone would be held in one place. "So that's why you're still alive. It left your lungs, allowing you to breathe but got into your bones, causing leukemia." I said and she nodded.

Inwardly I felt as though someone had poked me with a metal prod. Having seen Farley alive when all indications from the last time I saw her said she shouldn't be gave me hope that maybe she'd been cured somehow. But no. The cancer had moved and Farley had merely traded one form of death for another. At least lung cancer was relatively quick. As soon as you couldn't breathe it was over in a minute. But leukemia was slow, painful, and wore away at the basic frame of the body until it literally collapsed in on itself and no structure can survive without its basic framework. Looking down at Farley I could see my own expression of helplessness reflected in her eyes. She was dying and there was nothing I or anyone else on Earth could do to help her.

For the first time in nearly a month the clouds parted revealing a near full moon and a star-filled night. Farley's hull turned pale gray in the moonlight and when she looked at me, her green eyes were like two pools, reflecting the light of the stars. Her resemblance to the Ancients I'd seen in my dreams frightened me. It was as though her fate had already been decided. I pressed my muzzle to hers, feeling the coldness of it. Our breath intermingled, frosty crystals in the night air. I'm not sure why I did it, what compelled me to make such a move but my feelings overwhelmed me and with a simple twist of my head, my lips met hers. Though lacking the strength to stand, she had enough to give me a taste of her passion. A sense of relief filled me as I realized she loved me just as I loved her. She opened her jaws, the crystals of her breath collecting on my muzzle. My tongue slithered in and I felt the pointy tips of her fangs, unusual for any civilian but Farley had shown she was more than just any civilian. Her slight moan of pain made me pull back and I broke off the kiss when I realized I had pressed too hard, aggravating her shoulder. I pressed my muzzle lightly to the base of her neck and a sigh escaped her. Gently, I set her head down, taking up station on her windward side, protecting her from the worst of the elements. She still shivered and snuggled to me as much as she was able. I smiled and settling down myself, I rested my head over her flank. The bones here were still strong. It was only those up front so far that I needed to be concerned about. But how long would it be before her whole skeleton was infected? How long until she lost the ability to stand altogether? How long until she couldn't move? How long until her rib cage caved in and collapsed her lungs? How long until she... I forced the thought from my mind. I knew it would happen. Deep down I knew we were both living on borrowed time. But I had to hold onto hope. It was all we had. And thus turning my head once more to the stars above me, I closed my eyes and prayed for a miracle.


	28. Audmenson Speaks: My Love, Forever

It had been a cold night and the dawn didn't exactly bring any warmth with it. Silently, I cursed the sun as it rose, almost cruelly, into the sky. Spreading its light but not its warmth to those who needed it most. My gaze traveled down to the sleeping lump next to me. Farley had taken to using my side as both a pillow and a shelter. I nuzzled her lovingly, feeling her stir beneath my muzzle. I saw her green eyes and smiled. "Morning sleepyhead." She offered a lopsided smile, pressing her muzzle into my shoulder in reply. I sighed. Sometimes Farley was talkative, sometimes she was quiet. It all depended upon how she was feeling on a particular day and it was when she was quiet that I knew she was hurting. I licked behind her ear. "I'll get us some breakfast and then you can have an Oxyprozone okay?" I asked and she nodded. "Alright, I'll be right back." Another nod and I was off, scouting for a quick snack at least. Any kind of fish was becoming rarer and rarer in these waters and I blamed my "friends" in the Department of Fisheries for that. _"Damn them all to hell!"_ She thought. _"Let the Ancients smite them!"_ I hadn't forgiven them for what they had allowed to be done to Farley and I never would. My darling mate was growing weaker by the day and I knew the day would come when I would be forced to say goodbye.

Returning with a pair of salmon I gave her one, watching her until she'd eaten every bit, bones included (marrow is incredibly nutritious!) before handing her the yellow painkiller, hidden within a chunk of meat. She took it, downing it in a swift gulp. Her eyes glittered and I leaned down, gently cleaning the scraps off her muzzle. It was a habit I'd gotten into since that first day. I hadn't quite learned how to stop yet. Farley leaned into it, purring with more zeal than I'd heard from her in recent times. Finishing, I pressed my muzzle beneath hers, my hot breath warming her neck. She licked behind my ear in thanks. "You feeling any better?" I asked. "A bit." Her voice was raspy and grating as it usually was in the morning. Briefly I wondered what it'd be like if she was still with Sea Shepherd then I pushed the thought from my mind. From what Westra had told me, Ady and Bridgett would've been terrors for her! I chuckled at the thought and a questioning noise from Farley drew me out of it. I looked down to meet her questioning gaze. "Oh just stuff." I answered to her unspoken question. She snorted and I had to agree with her, that wasn't much of an answer. But it was the best I could formulate. Just looking at her now took words away from me. Her hull was beautiful, paint spotless. My efforts there had certainly paid off. She'd regained a lot of weight but very little of that was muscle. Her inability to move anywhere was costing her dearly and not for the first time I wondered how long we'd have.

A worrisome sound reached my ears and I looked down again to see Farley struggling. A small trickle of blood ran from her mouth. Instead of being alarmed, I merely sighed and lifted her head slightly, holding it in a way that allowed for the fluids to drain while being supportive at the same time. She coughed blood far more often these days and for me, it was just another reminder that our time together was limited. Her coughs became more intense and her struggles matched that. I placed the bucket down in front of her and did what I could to ease the pain as she heaved. I could tell she was finished when she leaned against me, shivering. Her tears stained my hull. I held her as gently and as lovingly as I could, my grip firm but not overbearing. "It's alright darling. Shh, it's alright." But it wasn't alright. And looking down into her tear filled eyes I could see she knew that just as well if not more so than I did. "My sweet..." I couldn't speak anymore as my voice choked. I looked down, feeling my hot tears work their way down my cheeks to the water below. I felt Farley's cold muzzle press against my neck. Her muzzle may've been cold but her breath was warm and I could feel it against my hull. It was shallow and far quicker than I'd like it to be but she was still there and despite her agony, was comforting me. Here she was, a wounded, _dying_ ship and she was comforting me?! Why?! I looked at her, my eyes asking that silent question without me even needing to say anything. Which was just as well. I wasn't sure if I could even use my voice just then. "You are my mate." She replied. It was a simple answer but its one that broke the damn. I don't know how many tears I cried that day all I remember is Farley soothing me as best she could, some kisses, whispered prayers. It was all a blur really. All I knew was how cruel the world truly was and I cried my anguish for my mate. For her pain. For the years I had missed as she lie here at this wretched dock. For all the days that she would never get to see.

...

DECEMBER 2, 2015

Taking one look at Farley that afternoon I knew she would not live to see the next morning. She'd become so weak and despondent most days she could barely eat, never mind speak to me. She'd just lay there on her side, eyes always fixed on me or some part of my hull. Even when I left the berth, her radar bar, which had so defiantly continued to rotate despite the damage, tracked me while I was away. Beyond that, she never said a word and hadn't for several days. Any kind of movement caused her pain so I was very surprised when I heard her speak. "Audmenson, I want you to grant me something?" "Yes, anything?" I turned to her, ready to offer her whatever her last desire was. What I heard next was not what I expected. "I want you to make your claim official." I moved back, stunned. I had claimed Farley as my mate several months ago in fact but it was not official unless we actually mated. For Farley to ask this of me now when it was clear she would not live past nightfall... "Farley do you realize the position you're in?" I asked, somehow managing to find my voice. "I am only too aware." She rasped. "And I want this to be the last thing I feel. I want this for us, please Audmenson." She begged. I could not refuse her. I never could anyways why could anyone think I could refuse her now when she was begging, pleading for me to give her this one thing.

I leaned down, my eyes locked to hers. She'd become so good at tracking me that even if I looked away I'd still find myself staring into that green gaze. She stretched her muzzle as far as she was able and I met her halfway. Unlike the other times in which we've kissed, Farley melted under my touch, rolling away from the dock to put her weight against me. It also had the added affect of exposing her keel. I reached out to began rubbing the smooth red plates and was rewarded with a soft moan. "Don't expect me to mount you. You're too fragile for that." I told her. "I will not live far beyond this Audmenson, don't be afraid to do as you wish." She replied. What I wished was not to cause her any unnecessary pain. Even though I wouldn't put my weight on her just the wrong sort of touch in the wrong place would hurt her, didn't have to be hard. But Farley wanted this and I would give it to her, but I would do my utmost to keep the pain to a minimum.

As gently as I could I gave her a nudge to let her know I meant business. Farley got the hint and rolled on her back. It was a suicidal position for any ship to show their belly but I could see nothing but trust in Farley's green gaze. She knew I would never hurt her. I traced my tongue along the edge of her slit, satisfied to see the outer lips swelling as she aroused. Good, that part of her chemical makeup wasn't dead enough yet to respond to my commands. I took the right one in my mouth, letting my teeth lightly nip its rubbery surface before letting it go and doing the same to the left. I let that one go and turned my attention to the object of my and her desires and shoved my tongue as far as it would let me go. As I rammed against her clit, she unexpectedly humped against my face. I could hear her cry of pain at the unexpected result. Briefly, I pulled back to look at her. "We don't have to do this." I reminded her. That glare told me all I needed to know so back to work I went, determined to give my mate the best last few minutes of her life. I didn't know for certain how long Farley might've had if we didn't do this but I did know that the stress of an orgasm would most certainly kill her. She was just too fragile now to take much. I felt some regret but I was also relieved. Farley would die feeling the last strings of ecxtesy caused by the efforts of her mate. I felt the first strings of the bond forming between us, a low hum in the back of my mind. I could've forced it back, resisted the urge to join with her but I didn't. I knew the pain it would cause me but a small and selfish part of me wanted this. Maybe I could give Farley my own strength, give her enough to live a little longer. At least long enough for us to be proper mates. Even now I could feel her weakening. Just as the strings of the bond formed, so they were tearing away and I worked to keep ahead of it. "Come on Farley, just a bit more." I begged. I gave her everything I had in my last go, touching as many places as I could reach with my single tongue. It was enough and I tasted sweet success seconds later, Farley's loud cry echoing in my ears. I pulled back, and swiped my tongue once around my jaws, the taste of my mate lingering.

I lowered myself down next to her, seeing the joy and pain warring in her eyes. I felt more than heard a low hum, indicating that the bond had been established, our mating cycle was complete. I had never had a bond like this before and uncertain on how to proceed, I opened my end. Farley's response was instantaneous. Her body may've been weak but her mind and most certainly her emotions were not. Her love was intense and overpowering and I savored every bit of it. For however long it lasted, Farley was my mate and nothing would change that. I took her against me and she buried her nose in my shoulder or tried to but I pulled her head back. Confusion entered her eyes for a second before I mashed my lips against hers. She purred, weakly responding to my demands. Her eyes slipped close but I kept mine open, seeing as the rapid rise and fall of her flanks began to falter. Thinking fast, I reached out with a wire. Farley clasped it in one of her own, her grip surprisingly strong despite her imminent death. Looking at her now I felt nothing but guilt and sorrow. "I never should've..." Never should've mated her. Never should've ignored her. Forgotten her all these years? How much time could I have bought her had I bothered to come here once since she was brought here? If I'd just come a day earlier? A week earlier? A year earlier? Farley pressed a second wire to my lips. "Shh." She whispered and I fell silent, gazing into her deep green eyes. "I wanted this." She rasped. "I. Wanted. You." She struggled for every breath now. "I love you." I half sobbed. "And I love you. You shall always have my love Audmenson." It was that which broke me. For it was more than a simple profession. At the same time she was forgiving me. Forgiving me for all the things I never did and wished so badly I could've fulfilled. "My love, forever." Swallowing hard, Farley offered not more than a simple nod. She was too far gone to speak now but I know she heard and understood me. She was aware of her surroundings entirely until the moment she wasn't. I saw the spark in her eyes fade, her flanks going still the same moment. And I could feel the strings of the bond, so recently formed it was more like cables, snapping. And I screamed. I couldn't help it. I just tipped my head back and screamed. It was pure agony, nothing like anything I'd ever felt before. They say love hurts, this was more than hurt or heartbreak. This was a fate worse than death itself.

"Farley, Farley. Oh Farley!" I whispered her name over and over, somehow managing to get a word through my relentless sobs, cradling her lifeless body and feeling the chill of it against my hull. The other ships, they knew. Even if they hadn't heard my cry or known my sympathies they would've seen how I held my mate and known. The pain of a broken bond is something only few ships know and fewer still have survived its terrible pain. After the burial, it was weeks before I left my berth again. I stayed in the spot where my mate had died and refused to budge. The few ships who could know my pain stayed with me, ensuring I had enough to eat and that I didn't try to kill myself as the one who is left behind often tries to do. But once those weeks had passed and the frayed ends of the bond began to heal over, I could pull myself from the dark caysm that had risen up to consume me after Farley's demise and rebuilt what was left of my own life.

2016

The large coast guard cutter was unexpected, especially sense it appeared to resemble US design. She shouldn't be this far north unless something was wrong but curiosity took me in for a closer look. As she got closer I could see the design of an Island-class USCG cutter but little else was shared. The colors were wrong. Where there should've been orange on the bow and sides there was black. She flew a Dutch flag at her stern but it was clearly meant for registration purposes only and not the most important to the ship if the purple and black flags flying from the main mast were anything to go by. And something seemed familiar about that setup, perhaps the purple flag... then it hit me. The Iraqous, native to parts of Canada as well as the US, were not recognized as a sovereign nation by international agreements but I would know that flag anywhere. I sounded my horn and flashed my lights expecting the same response that I'd gotten in the past, namely nothing. This ship came about, showing her stern to me as a rooster tail flashed up. The sound of her engines kicking into gear could be heard clearly and she flicked her stern flag in a rude gesture as she departed the area for open waters. _"Cheeky."_ I decided, not put off in the least by the insult. I was well aware that ships like this one could and would use more violent measures against me. My hull still bore the scars from my first encounter 10 years ago. _"Well deserved scars at that. I had it coming. We all did."_ Regret mingled with anger as I recalled the memories but I had no time for that, pushing it out of my mind for now. I had another ship to catch after all.

We were 12 miles out from shore and I hit the breaks, unable to stray outside my sovereign territory. The other ship halted just on the other side of the line, stern still facing me. "You do know I could arrest you for trespassing in Canadian territorial waters?" I asked. The other ship didn't reply for a minute, instead she just sat there, seeming to gather her thoughts. I was about to repeat my question when the other ship replied "Go ahead then." I did nothing. Unless the other ship came over the boundary back into my waters there was nothing I could do and the Sea Shepherd knew it. There was something about that voice, I had to know... "State your name?" I ordered. The other ship shifted and slowly, she turned around, still not crossing the boundary line but she came close enough to practically straddle it. A nicely raked cutter bow that I knew I would feel harshly against my side if I put a propeller out of line, faced me. And upon that bow were a pair of dark green eyes, currently narrowed. Not hostile, but interested. I lost my words for a moment, lost all manner of speech. I was sure if I tried to say something now all that would come out would be a stutter. It was impossible! She couldn't be here. I had _seen_ her die! I'd been right next to her when she took her last breath. But my eyes were not deceiving me. She was here, right in front of me.

At last I managed to whisper "Farley?" A warm, gentle smile graced the American's lips, full and deliciously moist just as I chose to remember. Not the dry and blood caked wisps of skin they were 6 months ago. My tongue traced the edges of my mouth, wanting nothing more than to taste Farley's but I didn't move. "You know if you come over this line, I'll have to arrest you." I meant to say this as a threat but instead what came out was a sultry purr and Farley's eyes lit up. "As I said before, Audmenson." She purred back and I suppressed a shudder at the way she said my name. "If you believe what you always say about me and my fleetmates, go ahead and arrest me." She stradled the line now, half in and half out of Canadian territory and I took that as my cue to move. Unable to resist any longer, I lunged, smashing my lips against hers. My tongue flickered out, eager to catch the sweetness of my lover's mouth before my own actions suppressed it. Farley made a sound like a grunt and in an instant she was pushing back, just as eager as I was. As the kisses deepened, I made to put more weight on my companion to tip her over. I'd always been the dominant one and Farley never had problems with it, content to rest on her back while I gave her the best Canada had to offer. But Farley wasn't having it this time. Instead, in an instant and with a move that my eyes had a hard time tracking, Farley was resting on my belly, positioned perfectly to work my slit in whatever way she chose. "This new body is cheeky." I commented and Farley laughed. "Coming into Canadian waters and subduing an official is a Federal offense you know. It would mean jail time." I said. "Could be exciting, especially with you as my gate keeper." Farley purred. "Sure you can handle that?" I asked. "My engines tend to whine coming into port." "Oh hush." Farley grinned as she pressed our keels together.

The bond sang, renewed by the presence of both partners. I sensed Farley's joy long before she opened her end. _"Music to my ears."_ I thought to her. She took me in her grasp and our hulls glowed and dissolved with pure joy, the bond singing the song of our reunion in both our minds.


End file.
